Chapter 8: Peace

I had not walked the desolate lands beyond Ossary since I was brought there. To be leaving that place was harrowing. To be leaving with death and ruin behind me was nearly unbearable, knowing there lie a great distance of more ruin before again there would be life. The Dolomites may have been bizarre and unfathomable, but they provided for me, and they were the only family I knew besides Kendra. I was immeasurably relieved to have her by my side and not laying under a collapsed storehouse. When I look back on that sad flight over the grey dunes of Rotaru, I remember keenly how I clung to her with both body and heart, but not only for her, but also for myself, as caring for her kept me from thinking of Anassa's corpse and the hundred arrows piercing her. I remember envying Asher ever more.

I was greatly indebted to the Vandals. Because of them we had ample food, water, heat and light. What we lacked was people. The hurt of loss was intense in their eyes when we would make camp. They had more equipment than was needed for our meager band of survivors, and they would all wince visibly when they caught themselves pitching tents that weren't needed, or preparing more rations that we could eat. I felt especially sorry for Dolores. Her brother had been a great comfort to her when her husband died, and now she had no one who could provide such close love. I went to ask her if Kendra could seep next to her, supposing that she might take at least a small amount of solace in that sweet girl's company, but she shook her head before I could even ask the question.

"She needs you, and no one can replace Oscar or Tyr. But thank you, Victor."

There were only four tarrasquin. They made a small camp a little ways away from ours. I went to them and thanked them for staying true to their contract, and expressed my regrets over them coming to harm. The smallest of them, about the same size as myself, seemed to be their leader. He spoke in words I only partly understood, but to the best of my understanding he apologized for his colleagues abandoning Ossary and the Dolomites to invaders, and swore himself and his three. I think he said brothers in the familial sense, to atoning for his company's failure. When I questioned him for information on our attackers, he merely shrugged, and suggested the Dolomite's may have drawn unfriendly attention with their strange behaviour. When I asked how his fellow mercenaries learned of the oncoming attack, he swore he didn't know.

I wanted to sit with them a little more, but I heard Kendra sobbing, so I went to her. She was in our tent, near the border of the Vandals clustered tents and mobile heating torches. I thought it brave of the tarrasquin to camp so far from the rest of us.

The morning was bright but cold. The Sun glowed pale and yellow, lighting the was across the dark sands for many miles. There was a faint silhouette in the distant haze, but we were too far to see clearly, so I fixed my gaze on a deep ravine that looked like a knife gash in the ground ahead of us.

"We'll have cover on both sides," Dolores said.

"And many caves to hide in," said Nokan, one of the Ossarians. He was a thin man with soft brown skin and slanted eyes, and while slender, he looked deadly. His wife too had a capable look. I saw no children with them, though they were of age to be parents. I decided not to ask any questions of anyone in my company other than those that pertained to our immediate survival. To that end, I had so many questions that I did not know which to ask first. Nokan answered one of them without me having to ask.

"We know our way around the islands," he said. "We were both born in Hokkanto, and have travelled all our lives."

Dolores smiled a little. "Oscar and I have been to the continent. That's where I met Tyr, my husband."

The Ossarians seemed unmoved by Dolores's loss. I was unsure then how to feel. It seemed I should be jaded, as I'd experienced to so much death in my life, but Dolores was kind to Kendra and I, and seemed too good a person to lose so much so quickly.

Amidst my own grief and shock there came to me a sense of awe, hatching from an egg not unlike the one the dead tyfloch mother clutches at now. I set up my writing station in the top chamber of Clarion's highest spire so I could peer into her eyes. They are frozen tight, but not from rot or death; from determination. I gaze too into the hole of her broken egg, sad that I missed her child hatch. I would have loved to have been there to welcome him to the world. I would have first warned him not to fly until the sky had been completely cleared, and told him of all the brave people who feel in the relay to get me to the terminus. I would have shown him his mother, and all mothers, who devote their very lives to their children, and how they have taught me everything I've ever needed to know.

Dolores was speaking with her fellow Vandals and the leaders of the Ossarians. I sat apart from them, happy to hear Kendra humming, though her voice was weak and made me worry. One of the Ossarians mentioned Thirty-third Day, the greatest of the Magnacities. I saw it my mind, looming and immense and silent in the dark. I wanted to go there.

Days later we were nearing the sword slash of a valley. I was given the task of walking ahead of the train with a bright lantern after passing close to a sleeping nimravus without waking it. Also, Kendra had recovered some more of her former mood, even singing softly on occasion, and so she was not in need of my immediate presence. She seemed content as long as she was near either Dolores or Nokan and his wife.

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As for me, my head was on a swivel. Besides my general unfamiliarity with the world outside the sanctum, I was deeply worried what creatures might be dogging our trail. The abominations contained in the asylum could have escaped, for all we knew, and they would doubtless be hungry. And here we were, a train of brightly lit refugees traversing the warscape with elders and children in tow.

When we reached the valley, I nearly feinted from its size and beauty. What seemed a thin slash from a distance was in fact a gaping chasm. Two great tears ripped open like teeth, and seemed to grow by miles with each step I took towards them. When we stood near the edge of the sword wound, as I called it, I saw that its descent would be the most difficult task I had ever undertaken, and I was very worried about Kendra. The easiest path down, according to the Vandals, required rappelling a forty foot drop. Two of the more venerable men went first, then the equipment, and eventually there were only myself, Kendra and Dolores, who went last and proved to be an exceptional climber. Once we were all on the long, narrow landing, we took what equipment we could load on our backs and did our best to conceal the rest, then we made our slow, careful way down the path.

I asked frequently of our destination, as it seemed to me there had been a unanimous concord between both parties. I hadn't seen the terrasquin for at least a day, so I began to worry over our safety on that count as well. I asked Nokan about them and he sneered.

"Their brothers betrayed us, so I imagine they left out of shame."

"Maybe our destination doesn't appeal to them," I said, hoping Nokan's reply would include where we were going. Instead he said nothing, so I asked him directly.

"To the end of this canyon. There's a torchlit road on the other side that leads to a coastal hub. Beyond that, I imagine we will all go our separate ways. The Vandal woman seems to care about you and your little songbird, so she'll probably take you with them."

"I want to go to Thirty-Third Day," I blurted.

Nokan gave me a confused, sideways glance, then smiled and gestured for me to look up. When I did I gasped. Our torches were bright, but the canyon was so immense that our light only teased at what lay above and below us. I saw foundations jutting outward with spears of coiled iron poking through in a pattern like thatch. Bent beams and walls of steel, spires of stone and half crumbled effigies, all coming together in a cacophonous mausoleum.

 

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Turk paused his stalking to rest while I wrote this chapter. He was too far for me to clearly see his face, but I sensed something different from him. I thought to sit by the mother and touch her hand, remembering Asher when I last held his. But I'm not ready. I still have more to write. I will hold her hand, though, when I'm done. And when she's collapsed into salt, then I'll go to my friend.

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