by Xenia Melzer
“Casto.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t you feel it?”
Surprised, Casto turned to his friend.
“What am I…?”
At that moment he, too, realized it. His skin was itching as though something like tiny needles was scraping it.
“Sand?”
The king was so surprised, he forgot for a moment where they were.
“Where’s it coming from, all of a sudden?”
“I’m afraid I know.” With his chin, Sic indicated the desert brothers, who had now grabbed Egand’s arms. Where Aegid and Kalad were standing, the sand, which hadn’t existed only a few heartbeats ago, was getting thicker and thicker, obscuring their outlines to a blur. Soon only Egand’s shrill cries indicated where the warriors and their prey were standing. In the side tunnels, Casto heard the clinking noise of weapons being heedlessly dropped because their owners felt the burning desire to get away from this spooky place. Casto still kept his sword at the ready, just to be on the safe side, but he lowered it since he didn’t assume there would be any more resistance or even an attack.
Speechless, he and Sic watched as the sand started whirling around Aegid, Kalad, and their prey in accelerating speed. Casto only knew the infamous sand spouts of the Hot Heart from the reports of merchants who had lost entire caravans to this phenomenon. Those terrible eddies made of hot air and sharp-edged grains of sand could arise within minutes and go for miles before they vanished again. Casto had heard of caravans that had been completely wiped out, with only bones left to prove there had once been life.
Up close, the sand was even more terrifying than the king had imagined. The only reassuring thing was that the storm was strictly confined. Whatever the desert brothers were doing, their pain had not taken away their self-control. Nevertheless, it was creepy to see what kind of power they commanded. Ever since the Mothers left the Valley, they all had been waiting to discover what kind of powers the Emeris would develop. It seemed as if Aegid and Kalad had taken with them the worst nightmare their home had in store. At the moment, Casto couldn’t ponder the consequences of this, but he stored the thought somewhere in the back of his mind to examine it later. It was a habit from his days in Ummana and had helped considerably to ensure his survival back then.
Egand’s screams stopped; only now and then did the king think he could still hear a muffled whimper full of pain. Then the sand collapsed on itself and vanished as if it had never been there. Aegid and Kalad stood alone. There was no trace left of their enemy. Only a few pale bones were lying on the ground, but they looked so old, Casto wasn’t sure whether they were really from the master thief. With their shoulders slumped by grief, the warriors returned to Daran’s lifeless body. It almost seemed as if they weren’t aware of the importance of their deed.
As gently as possible, the brothers wrapped the thief in Kalad’s cloak; then Aegid picked him up as if he were a newborn. Sic and Casto followed their companions with bowed heads. The loss they had just experienced weighed heavy on their minds. Sic was crying openly; he had really liked Daran. Casto, too, was full of sorrow, but it was mixed with anger. When they reached the entrance to the tunnel system, he turned around to take a last look at the cursed place that had robbed them of something so precious. His eyes were blinded by rage and before he knew it, he had already connected his mind with the torches still burning down there. With a guttural scream, he let all his restrained emotions run free. The fire surged forward like an angry predator, found a suitable outlet in the torches, and blazed through the tunnels with irresistible force, driven and fed by the king’s emotions. Casto didn’t care that most of the men who had been there to ambush him and the others were burned alive. In his anger, he even welcomed the screams of the dying, which he felt rather than actually heard. Daran was dead, and sacrificing those men didn’t even begin to cover the loss.
It was Sic who jolted his friend back to reality.
“Come, Casto. They need us now.”
With a heavy sigh, the king turned away. He could feel the fire losing its vigor. The cistern as well as the tunnels were made mainly of stone, so the flames had no food to sate his fury. There was no danger of a conflagration that could destroy all of Kwarl. Casto knew it had been stupid to give his anger free rein. The Barbarian wasn’t here to take control of the fire, which meant his little tantrum could have easily turned into a catastrophe. He still wasn’t used to the deadly forces he was now able to evoke, a problem he would have to deal with sooner rather than later, but which he did his best to avoid. There was too much emotional baggage attached to this particular problem to make him want to deal with it. And now was definitely not the time to muse about it. It was more important to support his brothers-in-arms in their hour of need.
At the inn, Aegid and Kalad took Daran’s body into their room. Sic and Casto acted as a guard of honor in front of the door. Both of them were so crestfallen, they hardly spoke to each other. For the first time since their departure from the Valley, Casto missed his husband from the bottom of his heart. The trip to Kwarl had been his chance to prove his independence to Renaldo, to show him he was fine without him. But right now, Casto would have given everything to have the Barbarian at his side. If the Angel of Death had been here, then Daran would have still been alive, Casto was sure.
Sic, too, was longing for Noran. To make Casto happy, he had agreed to come on this little adventure, but he really missed the master smith. It had been hard for him to leave with Noran so opposed, and now he regretted it deeply. Although their conversations had been strictly about business so far, he had started to feel comfortable and at ease around his former master again. It was a sense of security he recognized from the time when Noran had taken him from Dalwon. He longed for this feeling now—no, he actually craved it—but his personal needs had to wait until they got back home. Right now, his brothers-in-arms needed him. Sighing, Sic buried his face in his arms.
In their room, Aegid and Kalad had taken off Daran’s clothes and started to wash him. They were silent, both of them still too shocked about this loss, which they had always known was inevitable. Aegid started speaking first. He talked in the tongue of the desert tribes, a language only he and Kalad still knew. They had taught Daran the words of their fathers as well, so it was fitting to use them now.
“I remember how we met him for the first time, here, in the market. He was so beautiful. And so clumsy. A horrible thief.”
“But a wonderful lover. I remember what it was like to own him for the first time. It was a rush not even the sweetest wine can give you.”
“I remember his generosity. He always forgave us, no matter what we did. His heart was pure.”
“I remember his devotion. His love. He lived only for us.”
“I remember his laughter. He had the same humor we do, and he never hesitated to show his amusement.”
“I remember….”
“I remember….”
Until the early morning hours, they honored the love of their life. With every sentence, the love they had felt for Daran was engraved more deeply in their hearts, making the loss they had suffered more unbearable. Their union with Daran, which had grown in such a short time, had become an irreplaceable piece. And for the first time since they met, it wasn’t certain whether they could be each other’s strength again.
WHEN THE sun rose, Aegid and Kalad left the chamber.
“We’re going to buy suitable clothes and some other items to get him home in a manner befitting his rank.”
Sic smiled wistfully at his brothers-in-arms.
“I’ll stay with him. He won’t be alone.”
In a gesture of silent gratitude, Kalad placed his hand on Sic’s arm.
“Where’s Casto?”
“He’s looking after the horses and preparing everything for our departure.”
The desert brothers nodded in acknowledgment and left the inn. Sic watched their retreating figures from the window for some time before
he entered the room where Daran was resting. Sic felt himself trembling when he looked at the lifeless body of the thief. His owners had washed all traces of violence from his skin, and it almost seemed as if he was only sleeping. But something, perhaps a chilling wisp of finality, or simply the absence of life, made it clear that Daran’s laughter was gone forever. Sic knelt down next to this exceptional person, who had changed not only the lives of Aegid and Kalad. Lovingly he caressed the silken black hair. He felt empty; even his grief seemed to have collapsed on itself. Without knowing what he was doing, or being conscious about it, Sic started to talk to Daran.
“That wasn’t your best idea, to die now. You must know how much they need you. You’re irreplaceable to them, and to be honest, I can’t imagine those two without you. What were you thinking, leaving us like this? I really don’t know how to console Aegid and Kalad. Their despair is like a black hole, swallowing all the light. I’ve never seen them like that, so completely lost. Because of this, I’ve finally understood how much they, how much all of us, have taken you for granted. Whenever I think about them, you’re part of the thought. It terrifies me that this has to change now.”
Sic hesitated. It was just so damned unfair that a person as loved and adored as Daran was forced to leave the world, causing those who had to stay behind such insufferable pain. What kind of order justified a monstrous act like this? Daran had so much to live for and had been brutally yanked from his happy dream while others, who might even pray for death, had to endure the nightmare of their lives.
Something inside Sic snapped. A pressure that had been building all of his life finally found an outlet, and it unearthed what he had been desperately trying to ignore. The Luksari stirred. The ancient power buried in his soul reacted to Sic’s despair and rose to the challenge. The smith was overwhelmed by his own nature, but contrary to his deepest fears, it wasn’t terrifying this time. It merely opened his eyes.
Sic blinked. Daran was wrapped in shadows; darkness cloaked his body in a loving caress. And for the first time, the smith was able to see past his own grief and perceive the peace the thief had obtained. Death really wasn’t as cruel as he had thought. It was a gift. It didn’t always come at the right time and surely wasn’t received with gratitude in most cases, but it was a gift nevertheless. A gift he could take away again. The knowledge was suddenly there, as if a lost memory had taken on new color. Light emanated from Sic’s body, blinding in its heat and radiance. Tendrils of it reached out tentatively for the darkness around Daran, making the shadows quiver. It was so easy, and yet the most difficult thing Sic had ever done. There was no way he would pry his friend from his sleep without asking his consent first.
“Can you hear me, Daran? If yes, then please listen to what I have to say. I can bring you back, I can make the shadows go away, but only if you want to. I’m not sure if I remember how it is to die. From what I can tell, it means peace, and I won’t hold it against you if you wish to remain in this state. But if you truly love Kalad and Aegid, if you ever have, please consider coming back. They’re lost without you.”
For a seemingly long time, nothing happened, and Sic was ready to withdraw when the shadows started to flicker. The peace was disrupted by another, tiny light, nothing more than embers glowing in the dark. It was all the answer Sic needed. He felt his light exploding, curling around Daran’s body, eating up the shadows, consuming them as life, glorious life, streamed back into the void. There was a pang, as if something had exploded, and then such blinding light appeared that even Sic had to close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his sight was back to normal. He watched as color returned to Daran’s cheeks. His chest trembled and then started to rise and fall in the ancient rhythm of regular breathing. The long, elegant fingers twitched; his eyelids fluttered like a newborn dragonfly testing its wings. He sat up and looked around the room in astonishment.
“Lord Sic? Are you here? I heard your voice.”
Sic was as pale as linen. He didn’t know whether he should be joyful or terrified. For a moment he contemplated the possibility that his lack of sleep and the traumatic events of the past hours had caused him to hallucinate, but no matter how he looked at it, Daran was back. Confused, but back.
“I followed your light, my lord.”
Awed, Sic touched the skin that was no longer cold, but warm and soft again.
“I can’t believe this. You were dead. I saw you die.”
Insecure, Daran furrowed his brow.
“I remember the faces of my masters. Then everything went dark. I couldn’t move and I was so tired. When you started talking, I was glad. I didn’t want to sleep. Thank you very much for calling me.”
Deeply moved, Sic smiled at his friend through a veil of tears. Then he suddenly remembered something.
“Could you turn around, please? I want to see your back.”
Daran obeyed immediately. Where the dagger had hit him, a faded scar was visible, but it vanished while Sic was still staring at it. Daran was whole again.
“Master, please tell me what has happened. Where are my owners?” Daran hesitated for a moment. “And where is Egand?”
“You’ll never have to worry about him again. Kalad and Aegid have punished him most brutally. Concerning you—you were dead. I saw with my own eyes how the dagger pierced your heart. Your masters have mourned you the entire night. Now they’re out to get the things necessary to escort you home properly.”
Daran winced and lowered his gaze. Only now did he start to understand the severity of his actions.
“I troubled you a lot. I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s okay. Once they see you’re alive again, they’ll be thrilled. I’m sure you’ll be forgiven.”
A sob escaped Daran’s lips, which caused Sic to embrace him tightly.
“Shh, there’s no need to cry. Be happy you’re still alive. Everything else will sort itself out.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to stop. It’s simply too much.”
Whimpering, Daran held on to Sic, who caressed his back in a soothing manner while the past events finally sank in. That was how Aegid and Kalad found them.
THE DESERT brothers had walked solemnly across the market, buying all the things they needed for their slave’s funeral with heavy hearts. They had bought expensive clothes, jewelry, spices, and two ornamental daggers. All these riches would accompany Daran on his last journey to the Green Lands. Buying these things had a terrible finality, but it also helped the brothers to accept the new reality. When they returned to the inn, they heard sobbing sounds that were all too familiar coming from their room. Almost tripping over each other, they rushed to the door. What they saw then made them freeze.
Sic was sitting on the bed, holding the crying Daran. Daran, who should be lying there cold and lifeless. Daran, who had died in their arms.
The thief noticed his masters. He pried himself free of Sic’s embrace and staggered toward the desert brothers. Directly in front of them he stopped, his eyes full of love and hope. Then he sank to his knees.
“I’m so terribly sorry, Masters. I was disobedient, and I have disappointed you.”
He couldn’t speak further. Strong hands lifted him up, and then he drowned in the warm embrace of his owners. Over the thunderous hammering of his own heart, he heard and felt the anxious heartbeats of his masters. He sank beneath the love they felt for him and bathed in their affection, which generously forgave all his shortcomings. There was no doubt he would have to pay for his actions later, but at the moment, all that counted was the warmth of his owners.
Daran didn’t know how long they had been standing there; he hadn’t even noticed when Sic had discreetly left the room. He was completely caught in the moment, inhaling the scent of his masters and reacting willingly when they started compensating for the shock of their loss with unbridled passion. Wherever they touched him, his skin seemed to burn, their lips left blazing trails that permeated his flesh. He accepted the brothers again and a
gain, full of hunger and longing, until he was completely exhausted. When Daran recovered, Aegid and Kalad were holding him tight while he confessed his sins to them in a monotone.
“I was disobedient, Masters. I met an old friend at the market and allowed him to convince me to go with him. I risked the consequences without hesitation.”
Kalad lifted Daran’s chin.
“Why? We would have never thought you capable of such disobedient behavior.”
“I was afraid he would follow me if I declined his request. The idea of you finding out what kind of company I had kept and how I had lived….”
“Daran. We met you when you tried to steal from us. We don’t have any delusions about your upbringing.”
Aegid’s voice was very gentle. Embarrassed, Daran turned his head away.
“I’m aware of that. Still, I was ashamed. I couldn’t allow him to meet you.”
“How does your stepfather fit into this scenario?”
“It was a trap. Egand seemed to have known I was in Kwarl and ordered Gar to take me to the tavern where he kidnapped me. I told him I’m merely a slave, but he didn’t believe me at all. He thought I wanted to swindle him out of the money he deserved.”
“He definitely got what he deserved. You don’t have to worry about him anymore, little thief.”
Lovingly, Kalad kissed Daran on the mouth.
“And we do hope you’re not going to lie to us ever again. You can trust us, and we’re most certainly not so shallow as to judge a man by his ancestry alone.”
Crimson invaded Daran’s cheeks. He was deeply humiliated by his own dishonorable behavior.
“How can you be so lenient with me? I disappointed you so badly!”
