"In the Old World, there was no magic. Instead, we had advanced technology. Weapons that could destroy entire cities. Mechanical beings that could think for themselves. Strange carriages that could move really fast with no horses pulling them."
Berig chuckled. "You sure that wasn't magic? Sounds like it to me."
"Well, it wasn't magic. It was technology. It was also what destroyed the Old World." Graig stroked his beard again. "So God sent us to this new world and gave us magic instead. That way, we wouldn't destroy ourselves again, wouldn't see the need to build up the technology that destroyed the Old World. But magic didn't come without its problems.
"Magic resulted in the Great War. All around the world, those with magic fought for supremacy. Countless people were killed, and magic all but disappeared afterward. Some say God took it away. I'm inclined to believe that, but I can't be sure. There's only so much you can find out from secondhand information.
"But in this era of less magic, strong sorcerers like Warrick emerged. For some reason, Warrick's always viewed God as a threat, so he's sought to take God away from us. Early in his rule, he forcefully put down any hints of religion. The knowledge of God almost died out, but a few brave people carried it on through the Order, passing it down from generation to generation. We've forgotten a lot, but we know this much. If you support Warrick, you're opposing God."
Berig tried to take all this in. What could God do? What did He want? To Berig, God seemed more a symbol than anything, something people looked to in their time of need.
But did God actually exist?
"How do you know all this?" Berig asked. "I've never heard any of it before."
"The Order has spies in Imperia," Graig said. "Even in Warrick's palace. Warrick himself reveals some of his thoughts to trusted advisors. People get other information from the vast Imperial Library. There's knowledge out there, but only if you support Warrick, or claim to."
Berig looked down at the ground. "I still don't see why more people don't claim to support Warrick. I mean, they don't really believe in God."
"Well, those who pledge their support to Warrick are tested. In most cases, Warrick can use his magic to see through deceit. You're taking on a great risk by claiming to support him if you truly oppose him. Some can resist his powers, and they make the best spies. That's where I believe there's still a little magic out there. Those who have some magical capabilities are better at resisting Warrick. Most people aren't strong enough."
"I guess I'd never thought about any of this," Berig said. "There was never any question about supporting Warrick. It just felt completely wrong. Most of the people I knew never pledged their support."
"Most don't," Graig said. "They're afraid their reluctance will be caught. Why do you think so many of the nobles are not good people? People like Ander, like Nadia and her mother, are rarities? Of course, by all appearances, magic runs in both their families, so they can deceive Warrick."
Berig mulled over this information. For so long, he'd gone through life without thinking about anything. When he hadn't known if he'd eat come dinnertime, thinking about Warrick's government was the last thing on his mind.
"What does God actually do?" Berig asked. "I mean, why doesn't He stop Warrick?"
Graig let out a long sigh. "That I can't answer. I know that God wants us to be good people, to forgive others who have wronged us, but I don't know what He does."
"Well, I can't believe in a God who lets such bad things happen," Berig said.
"I understand."
As they'd sat there, Berig had felt increasing pressure in his bladder. He excused himself and walked off to relieve himself in some stunted bushes. While he stood there, something stirred deep within the mists, moving closer.
Out of the mist, a beast appeared. A giant cat.
Berig leapt to the side. The swamp cat, a sleek creature probably eight feet in length, tried to pounce on him and missed. With a rabid hiss, it turned and pounced again. Berig rolled out of the way.
"Help!" he shouted as the cat pounced upon him and clawed at his chest. Searing pain lanced through Berig, and he tried in vain to pull free, holding the cat's jaws at bay.
He heard shouts and hurried activity, but the sounds only registered dimly. The beast's foul breath made him gag. It continued tearing at him, shredding his clothing, drawing blood. Its weight pinned him to the ground, making it difficult to breathe.
Then the cat was knocked to the side. In a blurry haze of pain, Berig looked up to see Aric, Talia, and Captain Davis battling the beast. It turned its attention to them, and Berig crawled through some tall grasses, blood staining his ragged clothing.
He got to his feet and watched the battle on unsteady legs, holding his dagger and feeling foolish. A sudden wave of weakness hit him, and his legs collapsed. Maybe his injuries were more severe than he'd thought at first. Woozy, he glanced down at his chest. Much of the skin had peeled away, and some of his muscles showed through.
He turned his head to the side, watching his defenders perform an intricate dance with the swamp cat. They slashed at it again and again, but it kept dodging their attacks. At last, Talia managed to plunge her sword through its side, right near where its heart should be. The beast let out a hideous growl, then fell over on its side, moaning in pain.
Numb with shock, Berig could barely feel his injuries. The world had grown cold, and his body shook. This was how it must feel to die. Strangely, he wasn't afraid.
Chapter 35: Searching for a Miracle
Nadia, Markus, and Rik were sitting around the campfire on a muggy night, thoroughly exhausted. They'd ventured a little bit into the forest south of the road, then found a clearing.
Shortly after they'd treated Rik, he'd woken. Though weak, he'd summoned the energy to travel at a slow pace, with Markus and Nadia lending him support. Blood had soaked Rik's bandages, and they had nothing else to apply to his stitched wounds.
Markus had grown silent, staring off into space. Nadia knew the thoughts going through his head. He'd killed two men, and it didn't matter what justifications you applied after the fact. Killing someone, even in self-defense, changed you.
Nadia and Markus were eating some rabbits Markus had caught. Rik refused to eat at all. The mere thought of food made him feel ill.
Markus looked up from his food. "I wonder what drives people to become bandits. I mean, at some point, they had to be people like anyone else, people with families and friends. I can't help but think that someone might miss them."
"Don't let it get to you," Nadia said, leaning back against a tree. "We had to kill them."
"I don't know. I feel like there had to be another way, something we missed."
"They chose to fight us. They're to blame for what happened, not us." She took a deep breath. "I went through the same thing after the Imperial Guard, but some people simply make bad choices. Yes, they might be forced into these choices, but that doesn't excuse them."
Resting against a nearby tree, Rik cleared his throat. "You worry too much, Markus. Those men were scum. I mean, look at what the leader did to me. He didn't need to stab me. He was already dying. He was just an evil man."
Markus looked at the ground, kicking at a twig. "But what makes someone into that?"
"Some people are just born that way," Nadia said. "Under Warrick's rule, many people live rough lives. They don't all resort to banditry."
"I still think it's Warrick's fault," Markus said. "People wouldn't be forced to do things like this if Warrick was doing his job. I can't believe Warrick pretends to care about the people. How can someone who murders an entire city make a claim like that?"
Nadia agreed, but they couldn't blame everything on Warrick. Even in this horrible society, people chose to be good or evil.
After a long silence, she turned to Rik. "How are you feeling?"
"Could be worse, I guess. I could be dead."
"We all could be," she said. Only Markus had proven competent in the battle. She scooted close
r to him. "One of these days, you're going to train me how to fight."
"I will," he said, "but not today. I'm too exhausted, and we need practice swords."
She looked into his blue eyes, which reflected the dancing flames. He seemed a strong, steady force in her life. Someone she could depend on. He had a good heart. a strong idealistic streak, and a depth of feeling she hadn't expected.
And as much as he wanted to pretend he wasn't smart, he did have a good mind and knew a lot of useful things. Earlier that evening, he'd foraged in the forest for some herbs to alleviate Rik's suffering.
In all, she was happy to have Markus on her side. At a different time, in a different world, she might have even cared for him, but she still felt the pain of her losses. She couldn't let such feelings into her life. Not now.
In the morning, they resumed their westward journey and reached a rundown village along the road, where they found a healer and an inn. From the healer, they purchased new bandages and some herbs that would fight Rik's infection.
At the inn, they ate a good, hearty meal. Even Rik ate a little, though he looked weaker and paler than ever.
After leaving the village, they traveled for three more days, dodging storms. Once, they saw a tornado far to the north, but it didn't threaten them. When at last they reached Riverside, Rik was barely conscious, pus oozed from his wound, and his skin felt like a hot plate straight from the kitchen.
Every muscle in Nadia's body ached from supporting Rik, and she hadn't felt properly dry for a long time. She knew her way around Riverside from previous visits with her father. They walked the cobblestone streets, headed toward the city's center, where they'd find a doctor.
Riverside's buildings were made of wood, and she thought with horror that Warrick could destroy this city like he'd destroyed Crayden.
Shortly after they entered the city, a dark-haired man named Miles noticed them struggling and helped them take Rik to the doctor—a short but grueling march.
The doctor looked at Rik, then ushered them inside with a grave expression. They carried Rik over to a bed and laid him on his side for examination.
The doctor carefully removed the bandages, and Nadia gagged at the foul smell of Rik's infection. Surely he couldn't live. Markus had tried to heal him further, but his abilities only seemed to work once.
"The infection's too far along," the doctor said. "He's going to die."
Rik's voice sounded weak. "Please, there's gotta be something you can do."
"I'm afraid there isn't," the doctor said. "If you'd come here right after the injury, I might have been able to keep the infection under control, but you took too long."
Markus ran a hand through his hair. "You don't understand! Rik's my closest friend. We can't just let him die without even trying."
The doctor couldn't meet Markus's eyes. "I already told you. It's too late. I'm sorry."
Markus sank into a wooden chair and put his head in his hands. Nadia looked away from him, hiding her tears. The last thing he needed to see was her crying.
Was she bad luck? Everyone around her was dying. How many people could she lose and stay sane?
Miles cleared his throat, breaking a tense silence. "There is something you might try."
Everyone stared at him, and the doctor said, "Do you think Taren would actually help them?"
"Stranger things have happened," Miles said.
"You know how I feel about Taren," the doctor said. "People don't change."
"Well, he's the best hope they have." Miles turned to Nadia and Markus. "There's a man across town who might have the means to help you. It'll cost you, though. You got money?"
Nadia touched a hand to her pocket. "We have enough."
"For Rik's sake, I hope you do," the doctor said. "I wish you luck."
They replaced Rik's bandages, gagging at the smell of his infection, and left the building. Even with Miles's help, they traveled slowly toward this savior, this Taren, whoever he was. Nadia didn't like the way the doctor had talked about him.
After a few long minutes, they arrived at their destination, a small inn on the city's western side. Miles knocked on the door.
It opened shortly, and a large, middle-aged man stood in the doorway. The man had blond hair shaved very short and wore a thin layer of stubble on his face. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze settling for a long time on Rik.
"You require my help," he said. A statement, not a question.
Markus looked pale. "Can you help us? My closest friend's going to die."
"I gathered that," Taren said. "Come inside."
With Miles's help, they carried Rik into the empty inn. Rik's eyes had a glazed look, and his skin burned hotter than ever. Once Taren cleared a large table, he helped them hoist Rik onto it. Rik groaned feebly.
Taren held out a hand. "Payment."
"How much do you require?" Nadia asked, trying to control her voice. She didn't care for Taren's manner. Too terse. Too demanding.
He narrowed his eyes. "How much have you got?"
She took a moment to consider what might be an appropriate price. They had to ration their money. "Two gold coins."
"You're lying," Taren said. "You have more than that, but two will do."
Nadia handed two gold coins to Taren, then gave him a questioning look. "You still haven't told us what you can do."
Taren started toward the inn's small kitchen, with Nadia and Markus following hesitantly. The man opened a pantry and grabbed two yellow fruits Nadia had never seen before.
"What are those?" she asked.
"Miracle Fruit. Grows up around the Ghost Forest. Emperor Warrick strictly controls its growth and distribution."
"Then how'd you get it?" Markus asked.
Taren placed the fruits on the wooden counter. "No questions, Markus."
Markus frowned as Taren grabbed a knife to cut the fruit into pieces. Nadia couldn't read Markus's expression. Maybe a mixture of fear and deep thinking?
"How'd you know my name?" Markus asked as Taren handed him the knife.
"You told me when you first entered."
"No, I didn't," Markus said. "None of us did."
"You must have. How else would I know?"
"I don't think we told you," Nadia said, suspicious of Taren. How could he know Markus? Did he know her as well?
Markus glared at Taren. "You're hiding something."
"It's none of your business," Taren said. "Do you want to save your friend's life or not?"
Markus looked like he wanted to argue, but he said, "Fine. Let's make this work."
Taren set a cup on the counter. "You'll need to squeeze the juice out of the fruit. I'll tell you when you have enough. Then he'll have to drink it."
With shaking hands, Markus released the juice from the fruit. Slowly at first, but he got more efficient with time. Nadia watched, praying that this would heal Rik. Markus hadn't lived his life preparing to lose his closest friends like she had.
Eventually, Taren said, "That's enough. Let's see if it works."
Markus gave him a look. "Are you saying it might not work?"
"It's possible. Your friend might be too far along."
They returned to the common room, where Rik lay motionless upon the table. Miles stood watch, though he appeared as if he'd rather not be there. Nadia approached with a tight chest and churning stomach. Please, God, let this work.
Markus looked paler than ever. Taren had taken the cup, probably because of Markus's trembling hands. When they reached the table, Taren raised the cup to Rik's lips. Rik moaned, looking as though he didn't know where he was.
Taren poured the juice into Rik's mouth, and Rik swallowed it.
"How will we know when it works?" Markus asked, swaying on his feet.
Taren took the empty cup away from Rik's lips. "We'll know in about a day."
Chapter 36: A Strange New Beginning
A few days after leaving the Crayden area, Tylen arrived in Varner City. He'd spent his nights in villa
ge inns, sleeping beneath dirty sheets, and he still felt like bugs were crawling all over him. How could people stand to live like that?
In one of the villages, he'd sold his smoke-stained suit for two gold coins—all the money he had left.
He passed buildings of wood and reddish stone taken from the nearby Red Plateau. To the east, the plateau's sheer cliffs towered hundreds of feet, their rocks a brilliant red.
The southern side of Varner City was home to its market district, a mixture of stone-fronted stores and open-air vendors. A place filled with people and the clamor of voices.
Tylen could no longer afford the purchases he used to make when he visited Varner City. There was no guarantee that his relatives here would take him in. He thought back with regret to the terms on which they'd last parted. Could he rely on their kindhearted nature and make them ignore the discord between them?
How could he have fallen so low? He'd pledged his support to Warrick, and Warrick had rewarded him by destroying everything that mattered in his life. In truth, Tylen had never trusted the emperor, but the man's actions seemed unreasonable now.
Had Tylen been that blind? Had he ignored all the warning signs so that he could live a pampered existence, thinking nothing could ever harm him as long as he professed support for Warrick? Perhaps his entire life had been a sham.
He'd never stopped to consider what he truly believed about things. All he'd ever cared about was self-preservation. Now that he had nothing left, he also had a chance to start anew.
Could he become a different person? He thought back to those moments when he'd almost harmed Nadia in the forest. If that was the man he had been, perhaps it was better if he left that man behind. There was nothing else left of him after all.
In a light, simple tunic and matching pants, Tylen looked like anyone else. Common. Tylen had never been common.
In low spirits, he reached the gate to his relatives' manor. The gate opened at his touch, and he took deep breaths as he walked along the clean cobblestone path leading to the front door. The manor stood close to the Red Plateau, fashioned of that area's beautiful stone. It had a warm, rich look, something Tylen could appreciate.
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