Cole

Cole sat on the courtyard rampart, kicking off moss with his feet. He chose this spot because of the fresh air and the view. Both were lacking in the passage. If he wanted he could have a clear view of the city, where the victorious forces from the fields were just entering. He could also look to the courtyard, where the last of the bodies had been brought for final rites by a Vulture Cleric. Even Ghetsis and Tohl were being allowed this.

Cole cussed into the wind. He could capture none of these moments because of his damaged notebook.

He bit into the apple his elden companion had brought him. Said elden companion was watching Thezzus’ army approach. Vedek’s leg was bound in a cast. He was quiet. Reserved. The calm before a different kind of storm.

“So…” Cole thought he should breach the topic carefully. “Azeroth told me that Bréag isn’t you’re real name.”

The elden was shaken from his thoughts. He gave a small laugh. Like having a false name was just a joke.

“Er, no. It isn’t. My real name is Vedek Slevelisk.”

Cole waited for the confirmation.

“...heir to the throne of Fae’Riam.” Vedek added with a pained expression.

“I figured.” Cole shrugged and ate his apple.

“You ‘figured’?”

“Bréag is Arcadian for ‘false.’ It took me a while to guess who you really were but then I remembered…”

He handed Vedek a coin. “Your face is on the money back home.”

Vedek dumbly looked at the coin in his hand. “I was panicked when I thought of the name.”

“It certainly worked on others.” Cole took the coin back. He had found the coin lodged in the recesses of his hodag skin bag. A glasswood piece showing the face of the next in line for the throne.

“I’m sure you have your questions.” Vedek resigned himself. He had been anticipating this moment for weeks.

Cole gave a disarming smile. “I do, but most can wait. I suppose what’s pressing first is how the heir to the Fae Throne wound up in all this.”

He gestured to their surroundings. Order of Suffering banners were being cut down and burned in the center of town. In the courtyard a field hospital was being established. Clerics from the adjacent temple of Azmur moved from patient to patient with crackling smudge sticks.

“I’d also like to know that.” Legion arrived. A short rest had rejuvenated a portion of his lost energy. Death’s End jutted out of the holster on his waist. He and Cole exchanged a brief handshake. It gave Vedek time to think.

“You were there for most of it.” Vedek made a small smile as he thought it over. “We all made the same decision to help.”

“But you could have left at any time.” Legion wondered.

The wind picked up Vedek’s golden hair. He looked to a wide balcony above the courtyard. “No. I couldn’t have.”

“But now you might?” Cole asked. He kept his tone neutral. He didn’t want to influence Vedek’s decision.

“Maybe.” Vedek answered. Cole could tell he was masking the answer he wanted to say.

Vedek grimaced and changed the topic to something more upbeat. “What about you, Cole? Why did you involve yourself in this?”

Cole thought about all the choices that brought him to standing on this wall in these circumstances. It all traced back to a starlit night on a roof and a girl with gorgeous marigold hair.

“I think I did all this to get laid.”

There were better ways to put it, but the words spilled out him as he realized it. The other two looked at him with perplexed expressions. Both seemed to be waiting for the other to offer their comments first.

“...And have you?” Legion broke the tension.

“No. Well, yes, several times, but not with who I wanted to originally.” Cole stumbled out more words. Legion and Vedek were intensely restraining themselves.

“Actually…” Cole said with a sigh. “I’m not even sure I want that anymore. It seems, I don’t know, small? Childish?”

“I’m glad your loins direct you to fight genocide.” Legion remarked.

“You’re a hell of a catch, Cole.” Vedek said. “Anyone would be lucky to have someone fight a crusade for them.”

Cole played it off with an exaggerated shrug. He had meant what he said though. The longer he had been in Athshin, the less he thought about Lara. Now, thinking of her made him remember where his priorities used to lie.

A bright spiral from the temples beyond drew their attention. It was the light of resurrection. They left the wall to investigate. Lyn and Mercenary Maya were stood on a mound of grass between the temples. They were watching a cleric perform renewal rites for Dirk.

“I thought Sráid had no worthy clerics?” Vedek asked.

Lyn watched the cleric. “He approached me after the battle was over; asked if there was anyone who died that I wanted returned.”

The cleric was in a white silk robe that splayed at his feet. On the back, the symbol of Sahn seemed to give off its own glow. It was evening, but the sun felt just slightly brighter.

“What did you give up?” Vedek asked, gesturing to Dirk.

Lyn cupped her wrist where something once was. “A bracelet Trub made for me long ago. Its all I had left of him. I lost him and my brother. I couldn’t lose Dirk too.”

“Then you should be radiant that your offer was worthy.” The cleric smiled. He was a wood elf with a perfectly bald head. “Dirk Izelny lives, and he will recover fast.”

Dirk’s eyes fluttered open. With a groan he pushed himself to a sitting position. Lyn embraced him with enough force to knock him over again.

“Why are you here?” Cole asked Maya.

He didn’t mean to seem rude, but it was an odd connection.

She ignored him and answered to Legion. “After that night I woke up in an alley half-dead. I didn’t know where you were. At first I thought you were with the others in the corpse pile, but survivors told me of the diablan Incarnate that was carried off by the Order. Either way, that was my job failed. I went back to Ramuff. I kept my ear to the ground and learned about the attack on Underdune. It was a dumb hope, but I returned to Spiral City looking for you.”

Legion’s chest swelled with emotion.

Maya rolled her eyes. “Eventually I sold my services to the Spiral army for this siege. Soldiers talk, and in their talking I learned how you were seen with these two.”

She pointed to Vedek and Cole.

“—and that these two were rubbing elbows with the Lion’s Claw. I went to their headquarters. Dirk and Lyn weren’t there, but there was this hob stacking coins. He told me everything regarding the strike team and how you had stupidly signed up for it.”

She punctuated that statement by smacking Legion with the back of her hand.

“I’ve worked with the Lion’s Claw before. They’re down to half strength and...well, they offered me a spot.”

Cole performed a double take. Maya crossed her arms, insulted that this was surprising to them.

“I accepted, provided I finished my existing contract.”

She heaved a sigh. She examined Legion. A stronger emotion was being kept under wraps.

“So. Have I?”

Legion’s eyes were glistening. “My father’s killer is dead. I won’t keep you from moving on, Maya.”

He wrapped his arms around her. Cole could hear him breathe “thank you” into her shoulder.

Maya was hesitant, but she hugged him back and spoke softly in return. “Grieving child. This world will eat you up.”

She pushed him back to arms length. “When will I get paid?”

Legion didn’t have an answer, but he did stammer excuses.

“Whatever it was I’m sure I have a few items of Fae royality you could sell for more than your fee.” Vedek stepped forward. He spoke sincerely.

“Excellent.” Maya sang. “One last thing: take this.”

She offered Legion her sickle. Legion marveled at the weapon, but seemed afraid to touch it. Annoyed by his delay, Maya forced it into his hands. She tapped her knuckles, thinking of how to justify the action.

“It is what it is.” She held up her hands, unable to say more than that. She left them to greet her new boss.

Dirk gripped Lyn’s hand. “How good it is to be so loved. Where is the cleric that raised me? I must thank them.”

They looked for the cleric in the silk robes, but he had vanished. Unrelated, the sun above drifted behind the passing clouds.

They left the members of the Lion’s Claw to their recuperation. By now, their other friend would be waking.

Frost was covered head to toe in bandages that blossomed crimson. He didn’t seem to mind as he eagerly conversed with Nosib and Azeroth. When he stood to greet Cole, Vedek, and Legion, several of the bandages snapped off.

“My friends! We fulfilled the promise: We all lived.”

It was impossible not to grin at his enthusiasm. Cole was pulled into a tight, bloody hug in which all he could breath was Frost’s fur.

Frost released him and advanced on Vedek. “Bréag! Your true name is Vedek?”

Vedek couldn’t give his answer before he was embraced. The rest of them stood there awkwardly until Frost had his fill. Once he had, he wordlessly proceeded to Legion.

Azeroth broke the silence. “My last name is Stern.”

Cole looked at Azeroth curiously. “Does that name mean something?”

“No. I just hadn’t told you it yet. I don’t tell many people my last name.”

“Glad to be part of the few.” Cole smiled.

Frost broke off of Legion and returned to his seat. For the next hour the six of them exchanged stories of the battle. Nosib filled them in on what had occurred at the main front. The Order had seasoned soldiers on their side, but the bulk of their forces were volunteer militia that were sent out as fodder. The field was easily taken, but a line was drawn at the city limits. Nosib’s company broke through in a spirited charge, heading for the keep to support the strike team. Nosib chalked his fortune in reaching the gates to the will of Pashindra, who summoned winds to push the arrows of the turret archers off course.

Cole couldn’t help but agree after counting how many turrets Nosib would have had to pass to reach the courtyard. His view fell on the approaching cadre of Fae soldiers. At their head was Onakie. Odile was perched on her shoulder, dressed in a clay-red uniform befitting an officer, albeit sized for a child. The crowd in the courtyard parted best they could. The more formal soldiers amongst them kneeled. Odile did not notice them. Her eyes were set on her home.

At the entrance to the Keep Onakie set the Princess down. Odile turned to the attentive crowd. She looked too tired for the speech they were expecting. She bent her head low to them all.

Her voice was barely audible and trembled in her throat, but it was clear what she was saying: “Thank you all.”

There were small cheers, but the moment called for quiet reflection. Cole was laboriously committing the moment to memory for retelling later. Onakie and Odile went inside, followed by their entourage. Cole noticed that Thezzus had also arrived, but he was denying any praise or attention drawn to him. He approached Nosib to thank him for his guidance and charge in battle.

“The Order has lost today. The optimist in me says they won’t recover.” Thezzus regarded the cart of bodies being taken away. Ghetsis and his officers, including Tohl, were being taken to a secure building until three days had passed.

“So what is next for the forces of Spiral City?” Nosib spoke like a teacher when addressing Thezzus.

“The war hasn’t ended yet. If what I hear is true, then we may have found the bleeding knife that will turn public opinion fully against the Order.”

“Sorry that the key evidence for that, uh, died.” Cole sheepishly looked to where they were taking Tohl’s body.

“But there was another, yes? His bodyguard.”

At the corner of the courtyard Billis slept soundly on a cot. Her rest was the result of magic from the Azmur clerics. Cole hated it, but her hands and feet were bound for security purposes. Intermittently she would thrash in her sleep and make a small wail.

“Her mind has been split and reassembled with a scar as a seam.” Nosib said gravely. “No amount of healing, magical or otherwise, will bring her back to who she was. If you mean to interrogate her in this state, then do it without traumatizing her further.”

The others sounded their agreement. Cole hadn’t seen Billis when she was a blank or feral killer, but from how she quivered now he couldn’t help but wish her recovery.

“I give my word. Onakie also managed to stay her hand and keep Kelmin alive. I think he will be far more pliable. Even with their testimony, there will be holdouts loyal to the Order for all time. The largest of all remains in Finis. I will take back our lands by any means necessary.” Thezzus cast his oak brown eyes upon Cole and his friends. “Perhaps you will aid me in that?”

“I’ve resolved what I needed to resolve.” Azeroth answered. He was watching Odile speaking with Onakie. “I’m going to move on from this.”

Frost looked thoughtfully at Azeroth. “Then I will say the same. Azeroth is my friend, and intend to travel with him.”

Azeroth was perturbed that he wasn’t consulted on this, but he let it pass. Vedek balked at the question, as did Legion. Cole admitted that it was coming time for him to return to Oran Academy. There were four weeks remaining in his break, and two of those were needed for traveling back to Fae’Riam. It was the first time he had admitted this to the others. He tried not to look at their disappointment.

“And you, Tamil-Ki?” Thezzus looked cryptically at Nosib.

Nosib narrowed his eyes at Thezzus. A debate was occupying his mind. The winning argument must have been severe for he visibly recoiled and exhaled powerfully. “I am old. Not too old, but old. It's time I stepped away from conflicts such as this. It's not an old man’s fight to win. You’re the Tamil-Ki now, Thezzus.”

Thezzus left his reaction unsaid. He only nodded at Nosib with a bittersweet expression on his face. He was pulled away from their group so that he may address other troops. Nosib was still debating his decision internally.

“Where will you go?” Legion asked.

“I think I will throw my lot in with these two.” Nosib nodded to Azeroth and Frost. “If they’ll have me. It's been decades since I walked the world as no more than a traveler.”

Azeroth shrugged, resigning himself to this. Frost nearly rocketed to his feet again. “Of course you can join our pack!”

“You could as well.” Nosib eyed Legion.

Legion became flustered as they waited for his response. “I-I need to go home, to Refuge. From there...I don’t know where life wants to take me. I kind of have to build from scratch.”

“We’ll wait for you.” Nosib said confidently.

Evening fell to night. The infirmary was moved to allow for a celebration. Cole led the soldiers in war songs. Frost challenged Azeroth to a drinking contest and lost on the third cup. Legion sat anxiously at the center of a table filled with minotaurs who each took turns praising him for his role in killing Ghetsis. Maya and Lyn were in the shadowed corner engaging in deep conversation while a tired, but contented, Dirk watched on. Odile, cleansed by a hot bath, sat at the head of the room alongside her faithful Keeper and Thezzus. Throughout the night they made intermittent speeches to speak of what they had won today. Odile’s was better spoken, but Thezzus’ was more passionate. There was even a soft declaration of a future alliance between Spiral City and Sráid and the promise of recovering those long held by Solind Vissima’s barbatus. Odile also announced that her official coronation as Queen of Sráid would occur before the season's end. Cole had difficulty processing that he would soon hold favor with a Queen and an Emperor.

Throughout the feast the one absent face was Vedek. His identity was well seeded amongst the ranks by now, so it was understandable that he didn’t want to be too public. Cole did not see him again till past midnight when his lingering excitement made him unable to sleep. He found his way to the rear of the Keep. The wildflower hill was soaked with moonlight. He was not the only one to be here this late. Vedek stood at the hill’s center looking to the far horizon. Towards Fae’Riam.

“Did you deliberately find me, or is this coincidence?” Vedek spoke before Cole had summited the hill. He no doubt heard him approach.

“Ever since I was small I get bouts of insomnia. My mother’s advice has always been to find a quiet place outside and look at the stars. This seemed the best place for it on this particular night.”

Vedek chuckled. He helped pull Cole up a particularly steep section of slope. “There’s an Elden saying about that: ‘A starry sky is the best canvas for one’s thoughts.’”

Vedek had shaved and bathed himself. He leaned on a cane meant to compensate for his healing leg. He didn’t look like Cole’s friend Bréag anymore. He looked like the face on the back of the coin in Cole’s pocket. The two stood side by side to watch the sky. Athshin was much colder since they first arrived. A breeze kicked up and brought a chill. Cole huddled himself, but Vedek seemed unaffected.

“So what thoughts are you projecting up there?” Cole asked.

“I’m thinking of how best to say that I’m leaving soon. Possibly tomorrow morning.”

The wind died down, but Cole still felt cold.

“I found a collection of correspondence sent to Fellior following his death. A servant had saved each letter despite Kelmin’s orders to destroy them. One of them was addressed to me.”

From a shirt pocket he produced a stiff piece of parchment folded three times over.

“Before we had to flee Sráid, I sent a plea to the Summer Grand Lodge of the Ranger Order. They responded in my absence. They will shelter and support me in the campaign to take back my throne. A squadron of rangers were dispatched to meet me at the Fae’Riam border. If I am to make it in time, I can’t delay. Odile has promised me an escort for this purpose.”

“I see…” This was coming sooner than Cole anticipated. He had expected himself to be the first to leave. “We could come with you and join your fight. Nothing ties us here. We could make another adventure of it.”

Vedek shook his head sadly. “You, Frost, and Azeroth were the best companions I could ask for when I woke in that cart. I can’t ask you to devote yourselves to my crusade, not so soon after this one. Don’t you want your last weeks in Athshin to be the vacation you wanted it to be? I am going my own way.”

Cole bit his lips shut. He felt he was being denied something grand. Something more than life changing. The Archfaer statues watched them with stone eyes.

“Gods...you’re the King of Fae'Riam.” Cole gasped as the news finally sank into him. “I’ve been traveling with the King of Fae'Riam. Eating with the King of Fae'Riam. Shedding blood with the King of Fae'Riam. We’ve shared sleeping spaces! You’re a king and I’m upset that I can’t exploit that for glory and adventure.”

He dropped to his rear not caring how moist the grass was. “You’re right. What you’re doing could bring another Fae Civil War. That’s...that’s so much larger than a conflict ended within a season. I would warn everyone back home if I wasn’t certain that you would stop me.”

Vedek sat next to Cole. They were pressed shoulder to shoulder, in silence once more.

“I can be the one to tell the others.” Cole said after reigning in his emotions.

“Thank you.” Vedek breathed. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Cole.”

Cole looked expectantly at the King. He couldn’t imagine what this would be. Vedek was having difficulty conjuring it himself.

“How old are you?”

Neither could take the moment seriously. They both broke into laughter.

“I’m twenty-two. Twenty-three come next spring. How old did you think I was?”

“I’d rather not say.” Vedek turned away.

“C’mon. I hope it was older rather than younger.”

“Fifteen. I thought you were fifteen.”

Cole cackled. His laughter echoed off the twin mountains. “You judgmental...Well, I hope that was my elven blood influencing your decision. At least means I can be mistaken for younger when I’m older.”

Their laughter died. Cole no longer felt anxious for what would come tomorrow. He was so relaxed that he fell to his back and let the flowers embrace him.

“So what will you do until you leave?” Vedek remained sitting.

Before he left the academy, Cole made a long mental checklist of Athshin culture he wished to absorb. Foods to eat. Performances to observe. Then he weighed it against what he had already done. Bitterness crept in him as he thought of a particular moment. He pulled his hodag bag on to his stomach so that he may root around in it.

“I’d like to return to Kilarn. If the letter was true, then the Phyrn are returning.”

“Oh? What do you want with them?”

“I want to talk to them, if they’ll let me. ‘Talk’ is the wrong word. I want to listen to them. Their culture. Their stories. But most of all...”

He pulled out two stretches of lizard skin telling the story of Warmth and Cold.

“I want to give these back.”