The old fort was gloomy than ever. Once upon a time, it was a stronghold for the kings of Apharoth whenever their main camp in the flatlands was wiped out. The place served as their last resort, hence the name, Bezelius or Last Bronze in ancient Apharoth language.
It had walls that soared fifty feet high. Plus, it stood on top of a hill and so the four towers touched the clouds during the wet season. It was one of the reasons why it was abandoned. During the seven years of the Great Cold, it was rendered useless because it froze its own soldiers. Shrouded in fog, heavy clouds, and continuous rain, the country began to slowly forget Bezelius that once acted as a shield of the people but of course, people always forget. Only the shadows stay.
Now, it was a perfect hideout for the Mahan people.
“It’s been three days,” a bearded man wrapped in a thick purple scarf started. He sat cross-legged on the small plain throne “Why haven’t the assassins returned?”
“Maybe they encountered something along the way?” a younger man sheepishly answered while looking at the others who were also kneeling, hinting at them for help.
“The boundary is only a day from here. If ever they encountered something, then they could have sent one or two ahead. But three days? And not even one?”
The voice of the man on the throne was rising. It made his subjects kiss the ground with their foreheads in fear.
“Forgive us, sir! We have already sent a team after the assassins. And the truth is,” the young man gulped down his nervousness. The man on the throne squinted his eyes and the young man, without even looking at him, shivered in fear.
“The-the first squad-all of them were found dead in one spot. And the second squad, half of them are scattered as if they were killed while they were chasing the targets.”
There were ten seconds of silence.
Twenty.
Thirty.
The silence of anxiety was broken when it started with a chuckle. Then a laugh. And then a horrifying laugh. The supporters looked up to the throne.
“He has done it! He has done it again!” In his glee, he even stood up. “The monster’s blood runs in his veins, just like his forefathers.”
“But sir, we have yet half of the second squad that were not yet confirmed dead-”
“It doesn’t matter!”
The man sat on the throne again while caressing his stomach like it hurt to be able to laugh his heart out.
“Looks like it really is Chaos that got out from that village. We have finally found him.”
The door to the hall suddenly swung open.
“I wouldn’t be that too happy, Ataba,” said the intruder to the meeting. Clothed in silver armor and draped with a blue cape with gold linings fastened by snake brooches, the subjects again bowed down, especially at his sword that was strapped to his side which had glowing gems on its sheath.
“I see you still have your bad habit of not knocking, Prince Saizen Lifir.”
The prince marched towards the throne to which the subjects immediately stood to give way. “You know I don’t really appreciate it when people like you mention my family name.”
Ataba formed his right fist and laid his head there.”I know, I know. It’s quite a shame. To think that someone like you is only from the branch of the royal family, fate must have been cruel.”
Everyone heard him pull out his sword but nobody really saw it.
Yet there it was at Ataba’s neck.
“Oh?” was Ataba’s only reply. He wasn’t fazed at all, unlike his subjects who had their eyes bulged at the scene in front of them. Ataba was amused.
“You seem to have improved.”
“Your compliment is two years late. I have already captured a village while you were living in the shadows of cowardice.”
Saizen knew he had touched a soft spot. Ataba was a prideful man. To entitle him as a coward in front of his followers hit his pride. The prince smirked and withdrew his sword. He sheathed it and turned his back to walk away from the throne.
“You–why did you come here?”
“Oh sorry. I almost forgot.” He looked at Ataba. “I bring a message from our leader.”
Earlier, Ataba stood in laughter. This time, he stood in shock.
“Don’t worry too much. It’s only one word. Prepare.”
***
Carysse almost lost hope.
For three days, she had been trudging the lonely path.
She had put Chaos’ advice to heart, back when they were being chased some nights ago.
Go down the valley. Follow the river trail with a little bit of salty water. It will lead you to the sea on the other side of this mountain. You will recognize Apharothia because it is the only city that has bricks which are painted gold.
Reality was not as easy as he let it on. The river was so wide and there was not a single boat in sight. It was the rainy season so the river swallowed the road. Carysse had to walk knee-deep in mud for hours. When she finally reached the place where the waters didn’t reach the road, when she thought she would finally be able to travel normally, fever hit her.
There was no house to be seen. As much as she hated the forest by now due to their encounter with the Mahan, she had no choice because it was the only place she could find shelter. Elder Shimar must have said his prayers because just as the rain was about to fall, she found a cave that was cozy enough to warm her and it was not far from the banks. She didn’t even think about eating because hunger was the least of her problems. Carysse fell into a deep sleep. It was late in the afternoon when she entered the cave. When she woke up, it was also late in the afternoon.
Carysse immediately stood, knowing that she had slept for a full day. Her dinner on the first night was berries and wild fruits which she found by the way. She didn’t have the luxury to cook a decent meal because she felt the urgent need to get away from the forest as soon as possible, especially that she was already delayed.
“Ashki, Elder Shimar, I’m really sorry.”
It was a good thing that her fever was gone but she didn’t feel any better. Physically, she felt her feet swelling sore in her leather sandals. Emotionally, she wanted to go back to the village just to make sure Ashki was alive, Elder Shimar was unharmed by that freak Bal, and everyone in the village is undisturbed.
When she really thought about it, everything started when Chaos returned. One second, he was at the village. The next thing, they were being chased by assassins.
Too many times, she just wanted to collapse. If she was lucky, a traveler might find her. If not, the wild animals would kill her. It’s either them or the Mahan people. She wasn’t able to eat on time, or even a proper meal. She had to keep her feet moving.
Surprisingly, it was a dream that gave her the courage. Just one simple vision.
In that dream, the gates of Thalisse were not the rocks. It was the old gate of the original village.
That was it and she woke up, strength fueling her veins. The old gate was the first to be destroyed two years ago. Seeing it again meant restoration.
That was it. Survival–just as her whole philosophy was. Everything will matter once you survive.
Coincidentally, on that third day, her eyes caught sight of the end of the river. The land before her finally flattened out and the river spread as it met the sea and its harbor was busy as well. The view was enough to heal her. The wind caressed her face, soothing her tears.
And just a few kilometers away, there was Apharothia, shining under the sunset, waiting to be visited.