V

Aroha awoke with her mouth dry, her body sore and her head pounding. Groaning lightly she took a moment to wipe the sleep from her eyes and survey the worryingly empty room around her. Even the unconscious Camarian was nowhere to be seen. She shook the cobwebs from her mind and sat up in the makeshift bed. Confused, and panicking slightly, she called out to the room, ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

Upon receiving the expected answer, she jumped out of the bed and got dressed hastily, pulling on the same clothes she had been wearing since leaving the Port. They were starting to become irreparably stained and smelly, but she didn’t even care at this point. She could hear voices coming from the garden. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she heard the unmistakable tones of an excited Penelope. Hurrying to the door of the dorm, she pulled it open a little too quickly and was blinded by the unexpected sunslight flooding her eyes. A hand gripped her shoulder unexpectedly and she jumped back in shock, pushing the shadowy figure away from her with all the strength she could muster.

‘Hey, young one! Slow down!’ the figure yelled out. It caught its balance on the doorframe heavily, straightened out its robe and entered the room.

‘Are you okay?’ the elderly Priest asked, the worry in his voice evident. ‘I’m sorry if I startled you, child. I was just coming in to check on you.’

‘I— I’m sorry, Uncle,’ Aroha stammered. Her heart hammered her chest and she breathed deeply to try and calm it. ‘I was just surprised. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.’

‘No, no, it’s my fault. One should never sneak up on a lady. Are you alright?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry. Where is everyone? Where’s the Camarian?’

The elderly Priest beamed. ‘That’s why I came to look for you! He woke up just a little while ago. Rylan and Penelope took him out into the garden and are talking to him right now. They didn’t want to start without you, but you’ve been very heavily asleep for some time now.’

‘I’m sorry, the wine…’ Aroha mumbled limply.

‘Yes, I am glad you had fun,’ the Priest responded with a knowing smirk. ‘If you want to freshen up and get your bearings first, I can let your friends know to wait a mite longer for you. I left the herbal tea simmering over the fire and laid out a clean robe for you over by the washbasin in the corner there. I’m sorry there was no time to heat it, but Rylan brought the water fresh from the well this morning. It should do you some good.’

‘Thank you, Uncle. You’re sure it’s no inconvenience?’

‘Nonsense, child. I’ll give you some privacy,’ he added. ‘I’m sorry there’s not a proper washroom, we Priests lead simple lives and it’s usually just myself and Traeger here.’

‘It’s no problem…’

Nodding, the Priest backed out of the room and closed the door gently behind him. Aroha made sure it was properly closed before she went over to the basin in the corner. It was a simple tin tub, filled with clear, ice-cold water. The water was shocking at first, but she soon appreciated the coldness of it on her skin. She could feel the weariness wash off her as she splashed it across her face and neck. She washed and dried off as best she could and changed into the linen robe the Priest had left beside the basin. It was thin and soft and airy, despite its appearance. Perfect for the mildly warm weather of the continent. It was altogether too big for her, but she tied it tightly around her waist with the string belt it came with. She looked like a child playing dress-up in her mother’s dresses, but she felt extremely comfortable. She laid her dirty tunic and trousers to the side of the basin, making a mental note to wash them later. She then went over to the lightly simmering pot over the fire and poured herself a steaming cup of the herbal mixture. It was the same tea the Priest had given to her the previous day and she appreciated the soothing, warming effect it had on her, making her feel a lot better.

She drank down a full cup as quickly as she could, blowing on it gently between sips, then poured herself another for the road. She went out to the garden and was greeted by a bright, pleasant day. The garden looked especially radiant and golden. Aroha spied her friends, the elderly Priest and the now-awake Camarian, all garbed in similar clean linen robes and gathered near the pond, sitting in a small circle and chatting on the grass. She made her way over to them.

Penelope waved her over and jumped up as soon as her friend was near enough to grab. ‘We’ve been waiting all morning for you! This is Damien,’ she said, waving her hand to the Camarian. ‘And, Damien, this is Aroha. She helped get you out of the Port.’

Aroha nodded curtly to the Camarian. ‘Well met, Damien…’

The Camarian, in turn, smiled at her warmly. She could see it was still a slight struggle for him as he winced a little while doing so, but she wasn’t quite sure why she felt a slight tinge of pleasure because of this.

‘Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Miss Aroha,’ Damien said, bowing his head to her. ‘Sorry I can’t stand an’ thank ye properly, me body is still a little weak.’

She could quite clearly hear the accent now that the man could form full sentences, but it wasn’t as pronounced or near as unintelligible as the raiders’ she had heard in the Port. Now that she could see him clearly in the bright sunslight and with the pallor of heavy blood loss no longer present, she also noted his light caramel skin tone. Again, it wasn’t as pronounced as the raiders’ had been, but it was unmistakably Camarian. The warm, crop-friendly weather they enjoyed in the Kingdom gave their skin a distinct colour and glow that other Kingdomers of lesser climes just did not have.

When she did not immediately respond to him, he continued. ‘I was just sayin’ how deeply grateful I am. There’s no thanks I can rightly give to make up for what ye did for me. I owe all of ye me life.’

‘It was nothing. You would’ve done the same for us,’ Rylan responded. His relaxed, friendly posture made Aroha nervous. She would’ve thought he would be more guarded, more interrogative, even. They must have been talking for a while now for Rylan to be so cavalier around this man they didn’t know.

‘Aye, but ye were so brave. Dragged me lumbering ass back an’ healed me. Saved me life…’ Damien said quietly. Aroha thought she heard a choke in his voice and she felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just… Ye’ve done so much for me…’

‘Think nothing of it, my child,’ the elderly Priest said calmly. ‘We were just behaving accordingly. The Mother blessed all of you to make it out. Although I know you follow a different goddess and different teachings.’

‘That’s true, Uncle. We got Comeîõen – the Maiden – up in Camar.’

‘Oh, you must tell us your story!’ Penelope piped up. She sat back on the grass cross-legged and tugged on Aroha’s hand to do the same. She obliged somewhat tentatively, taking care not to spill her herbal tea. ‘I know we were waiting for Aroha, and now she’s here I can’t contain it anymore. Please, tell us everything. Tell us how you came to be in the Port.’

‘Ah, aye… Well, I was there with me pa. I worked with him on his ship.’

‘Ship?’ Aroha asked, her eyebrow raised.

‘Oh, no, nothin’ like those slavers!’ Damien exclaimed upon seeing Aroha’s cold expression. ‘I know those bastards did ye wrong, an’ I understand if ye have reservations about me, but I wasn’t with ‘em. No, me pa has… had a simple fishing boat. We come from Blaine, a fishing town not unlike yer own. We been at sea for months now, travellin’ along the southern tip of Camar an’ northern Namaria. We came ashore a few days ago to sell our catch an’ get information on where there’s good bitin’.’

‘Where— where is your pa?’ Penelope asked cautiously.

‘I— I had some time to think an’— I’m rightly sure he died in the Port…’ Damien said. He spoke slowly and measurably, weighing each word carefully before he spoke. ‘Rylan told me how bad it was. How evil. Those raiders… They don’t take men prisoners. I— I don’t hold much hope for him makin’ it out of that chaos.’

Aroha began to feel a pit of dread and shame in her stomach. Perhaps she had been too unkind and harsh on this man without even knowing his story. Everyone had lost something in the Port. She wanted to comfort him somehow; cradle his sad head and hug his broken body and tell him how sorry she was.

‘I’m so sorry, Damien,’ Penelope said as she reached out and laid her hand on his forearm.

Damien nodded at her. ‘I know— we all lost people in that attack... I can’t even imagine what ye guys lost, yet ye still saw fit to carry me to safety.’ He turned to face Aroha specifically as he said. ‘Ye have no idea how much it means to me. Truly.’

‘How did you get wounded? Did you try and fight them as well?’ Aroha asked softly. She averted her gaze from his lest he somehow saw into her and realized how much resentment she had harboured for him for no real reason.

‘Aye… When it happened, a bunch of us sailors in the pub went out to see what the fuss was. They had just landed in the Port – a right rowdy, nasty bunch. Piss an’ vinegar. We tried to talk to ‘em, get ‘em to leave well enough alone. Thought they would listen to a fellow countryman, but… They just weren’t havin’ it. I tried to fight, but there were too many of ‘em an’ they were vicious… I tried to escape, find help, an’ one of ‘em stabbed me in the back. I don’t remember much from there. I remember runnin’. Everythin’ else is just like a dream…’

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift uncomfortably as he told her all of this. ‘I’m sorry, Damien,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘Thank you for trying to help. I’m sorry about… everything.’

‘Me too…’

Rylan sighed and fell back onto the grass, gazing up into the sky. ‘What a mess this is,’ he sighed. ‘I have no idea what we’re going to do.’

Eduard cleared his throat. ‘I fear, my children, that I can’t offer you any real council… There is simply nothing that can be done. I understand the pain you must all feel having been forced to flee your home and your lives, but take solace that the Mother watched over you to ensure your safety. All I can tell you is that you are more than welcome to remain in Bergia as long as you want and need to. While you slept, I went out and spoke to some of the elder members of the village and explained everything to them. The tavern owner, Bard, has already agreed to let you stay in his upstairs room for as long as needed and I’m sure we can find some work for you all to do. Rylan already told me he and Penelope are farmers and Aroha, I hear, is a gifted seamstress? This village can be your new home if you so wish it. Besides this, I am afraid there is no other kindness I can extend to you besides prayer.’

Everyone thanked the old Priest profusely for his kindness and help. Rylan spoke for the entire group when he told him, ‘We appreciate everything you’ve done for us. I don’t know how we can repay this kindness, but we will…’

The elderly Priest smiled at them and took his leave, citing work and chores that still needed to be done and an absent Traeger to account for. Aroha watched him walk back towards the Temple and disappear inside. Nobody said anything else and the group fell silent, contemplative.

Rylan stared at the sky for a good long while, watching Orphesia dance and shimmer as if it were reflected in a pool of water. He sat up after a while and said, very carefully and purposefully. ‘I don’t think I can stay here. I won’t speak for everyone because I don’t know what you’re all thinking, but I can’t stay here. The Camarians— the raiders, they took people we love and care about. They took women and children who are now in terrible distress and are fearing for their lives. We can’t just abandon them like that. I can’t just abandon them. We grew up with those people. They raised us and helped us and cared for us. When Penelope and I lost our parents, the town took care of us. And Aroha’s mother and brother are in trouble and I know you want to help them as well. I don’t know the way forward from here, but I know I can’t stay. I know I have to do something. I know I have to try. It’s like a… a weight on my soul.’

‘Rylan’s right…’ Aroha said. ‘We have to do something. I don’t know what to do either, but I know we’ll figure something out. Even if we have to go all the way to Camar and free everyone ourselves, I’m in.’

‘I’ll help where’er I can!’ Damien exclaimed, so suddenly that it startled Aroha. ‘I owe ye me life! Anythin’ ye want me to do, I can do it.’

Penelope chuckled. ‘Don’t be silly, Damien, you don’t owe us anything. You just concentrate on healing for now. We’ll figure this out. And, obviously, I’m coming with you two,’ she added with a shrug and a smirk. ‘You wouldn’t survive without me anyway.’

Damien tried to stand up, but faltered and fell to his knees heavily. Wincing, he still managed to get out, ‘I’m comin’ with! I don’t care where ye go.’

Penelope helped him sit back down and patted his shoulder gently. ‘I’m sure you want to go home, Damien. We can find you a ship or something and send you on your way. This isn’t your fight. These people aren’t yours.’

‘No way!’ he said fervently. He grasped her hand so tightly it hurt. ‘Look, I’ll take ye all the way to Camar if ye want me to! I know the Kingdom, the people. I can guide ye.’

Rylan sighed and looked at the grass between his fingers. He stroked it slowly, then said, ‘I can’t let you do that, Damien. I know you feel some kind of obligation or debt to us, but you don’t. Like Penelope said, it’s not your fight. And I don’t know where we’ll be going, but we won’t be going the direct route. There’s no way we can free everyone by ourselves. We’ll just be enslaved or worse if we try it by force. We need coin and a proper plan, then we could buy our townspeople from freedom. It’s the only realistic thing I can think of.’

He looked around the group, his eyes meeting and lingering on Aroha’s. ‘I killed two people when we escaped and I haven’t been the same since. I can still hear the screaming, still feel the blood on my skin… I don’t want to fight any more if I don’t have to. I want to do this as cleanly and smartly as we possibly can. Coin is all that matters in the Kingdoms. Coin is what we need.’

‘An’ I’ll help ye,’ Damien persisted.

‘Listen—’

‘We’re all in the same boat here! There’s nothin’ left for me back home either. Me pa was all I had an’ now he’s gone… there’s nothin’ for me to go back to. But he taught me to repay me debts, an’ this time I think I can do that. I think I know a way ye can make some good coin, an’ quick-like if we’re lucky.’

‘How?’ Aroha asked, leaning forward unintentionally.

‘Ye ever heard of treasure hunters? Rogues an’ robbers the lot of ‘em, but sometimes they find somethin’. Somethin’ big. It’s a thing in the Kingdoms: huntin’ for the treasures from the seasons of myth. The relics of the ages past. They’re hard to find, but collectors in the Kingdoms – Kings an’ Queens – they’ll pay for ‘em! An’ handsomely. Enough for people to spend ‘er whole lives searchin’ for ‘em at the very least.’

‘I’m sorry, Damien. I know you mean well, but that doesn’t sound like a real plan. That sounds like luck and wishful thinking,’ Rylan said as kindly as he could manage. ‘We wouldn’t even know where to look or what a relic looks like.’

‘Sure, but I would,’ Damien countered. ‘I may be a fish’er by trade, but I did spend some time tryin’ to be me own man, do me own thing. I, er… I ran with a small crew of hunters afore. I ken some of the tricks of the trade, as it were. I can help ye. Truly. Just give me a chance. It’s the least I can do after all ye’ve done for me.’

Penelope burst out laughing. ‘Oh, I like him! Always full of surprises, this one.’

Rylan got up from the grass, brushing some errant leaves from his pants. He stood looking at Damien for a moment, then conceded, ‘Alright, give me some time to think things over. You guys do the same. Think long and hard about what you really want to do. We can spend some time here until we figure things out, there’s no rush to leave just yet.’

The group nodded their consent and, satisfied for now, Rylan said, ‘I’m going to the general store, see if I can get some coin for the crops we have with us. It’s not like we can use it anyway,’ before he headed off into the village as well.

‘Well, it’s settled then,’ Penelope shrugged, watching her brother wander off. ‘I know Rylan and he’s made his mind up already. He’s going to hem and haw and mull over it a bit, but this is the only plan we have so far. I, for one, think it could be a good starting point for us. It’ll be better than sitting around here anyway.’

She turned to Damien and looked at him, her expression turning deadpan and serious. ‘Are you sure you want to come with us, Damien? We’re not exactly an organized or well-off bunch, as you can tell.’

‘Well, I’m not exactly any of those things either,’ Damien said. ‘I know I came on a little forceful-like, but I genuinely want to help ye guys. I owe it to ye. An’ ye can say what ye want, it won’t change that fact.’

‘We’re all in the same boat…’ Aroha repeated to herself under her breath.

Damien nodded enthusiastically. ‘Exactly! Ye looked out for me when ye saved me life, allow me to return the favour.’

Penelope thought about it for a moment. ‘Well, maybe we can make this work. The more the merrier, right? We lost kids need to stick together.’ With that, she also stood up. ‘You can keep Damien company out here in the suns, Aroha. It’ll do him good. I’m going to see to some of our own chores. Clean up a bit, maybe rustle up a meal for the kind Priests for lunch.’

An awkward silence fell over Aroha and Damien when she left. Aroha sipped her tea slowly. Damien smiled at her awkwardly and was suddenly very interested in the texture and quality of the grass around him.

‘You really think we could find something?’ Aroha asked, breaking the silence.

When she had been a child she had always dreamt of being a treasure hunter, exploring the world and braving impossible odds. As she grew older she realized it was just the dreams of a trapped child, but now and then one of them wandered into the Port and it had reignited that little spark of imagination and curiosity in her brain. They had always told the grandest tales of the adventures they had been on and where they were going. Tales of epic fights and uncovering ancient lost cities and artefacts. Big, bearded, suave, armour-clad men and beautiful, battle-hardened, warrior women the lot of them. This was how she knew Damien was telling the truth and providing them with an actual course forward, and she knew that Rylan was thinking the same thing. The number of times they had played at being adventurers together in their wild youth was immeasurable.

‘I think we can,’ Damien said. He leaned forward a bit, almost as if drawing Aroha into some conspiracy. ‘They say the Kingdoms have been rulin’ us for three thousan’ years, but there were people who came before that. An’ even relics of the Kingdoms themselves from the earlier ages.’

‘What does a relic even look like?’ Aroha asked, barely able to contain an excitement that was burning inside of her. ‘We’ve had treasure hunters passing through the Port, telling stories about their adventures, but I’ve never actually seen a real-life relic.’

‘It can be all kinds,’ Damien said with a shrug. ‘Sometimes it’s an old sword or shield, sometimes it’s coins or paintin’s or anythin’ really. Sometimes it’s real big an’ ye find an old fort or ruin. That’s when ye get the real praise and coin. Ye’re a hero for life if ye find somethin’ like that.’

‘If it could be anything, and it could be anywhere, then where do you even begin looking?’

‘It’s mostly about knowin’ the right place to look. We’ve got a golden opportunity here. Those woods, the Sephia, no Kingdomer has the gall to try an’ search. That means it’s untouched. I think we could find somethin’ of real worth in there.’

‘That’s all well and good, but no Zeshani has the guts to go in there either,’ Aroha said with a barely suppressed sigh. ‘They say it’s cursed.’

‘Aye, it might be,’ Damien conceded. ‘But this is the closest I’ve ever been to it, an’ this village must ken some tricks an’ the like to traversin’ it. They have to hunt for game an’ forage somewhere, right? Maybe we could learn somethin’ about it here if we keep our ears ope.’

‘Are there a lot of treasure hunters in the Kingdoms? Is it a busy profession?’

‘Not really… It’s a hard life an’ there’s no guarantees. A lot of ‘em end up as mercenaries or soldiers. Or, like me, they get some sense before it’s too late,’ Damien said. Aroha thought she sensed a hint of regret in his voice. He paused for a moment before continuing. ‘I’m sure ye heard of the civil war what ravaged Sevet a few years back? Treasure huntin’ got to be pretty scarce around then as a lot of hunters went into service as mercs. An’ with talks of a new war brewin’ over in Mizzaro, I think they’ll be kept busy for a while still. Perfect time to start,’ he added with a smirk.

‘Why’d you quit then? If it’s so fruitful and adventurous?’

Damien sighed. He pursed his lips and looked at Aroha a good while before seeming to decide it was alright to tell her, ‘The crew I was with? They were bad people. They did bad thin’s. It’s a hard life, aye? An’ it makes ye hard as well. I couldn’t keep doin’ that.’

‘Is that why you still wear armour and carry a sword? Remnants from that past life?’ Aroha asked, suddenly remembering how they had found the man initially. It felt like the puzzle pieces were finally clicking into place in her head.

‘Aye, somethin’ like that… The seas are not a kind place either, truth to tell.’

‘Ah, I see…’

Silence fell upon the pair once more. This time Damien was the one to break it as he asked Aroha, ‘Do ye think ye could help me into the Temple?’

‘Sure,’ Aroha replied.

She helped Damien to his feet, holding his uninjured arm as he leveraged himself up. She couldn’t help but notice that he had a few scars on his arms that she hadn’t noticed before. Some of them were particularly nasty and deep, and smooth to her touch. She spied some that looked like they could be knife wounds, and others she couldn’t rightly identify. He was obviously no stranger to injury and one day his current wound would become just another one of these souvenirs.

Must have been all the adventuring and life on the sea, she thought to herself. She found herself self-consciously examining every inch of exposed flesh to see if she could spy any more scars, and made a mental note to ask him about them later.

She let him get his bearings before letting go of his arm and walking next to him as he made his way inside the Temple. One of the Priests had laid down fresh candles in the circles surrounding the effigy of the Mother and they provided a sort of grim ambience to the room.

Damien looked up at the statue, then looked to Aroha for help, ‘So, uh, how do ye pray to Her?’

Aroha thought about this for a moment. She had never done it before if she was being honest with herself, even if she had attended worships and festivals before. ‘I suppose… You kind of just… Kneel down and ask Her to notice you?’

‘Not one for prayer, are ye?’ Damien asked with a wry smile.

‘No, not really…’ Aroha said sheepishly.

‘Truth be told, me either. Thought I should thank Her though, keepin’ me alive an’ all. Think it’d make the Priest happy.’

‘Do you even believe in the Mother? I thought you had the Maiden in Camar? I’m sorry, I could never pronounce Her name.’

‘Aye, Comeîõen… I don’t believe in Her either if I’m honest. There’s just so many gods an’ goddesses around, ye know? Every Kingdom worships someone different. The Namarians have their own thing. Even ye Zeshani don’t all worship the Mother. She’s a northern religion, down south they have somethin’ completely different. It’s hard to know whose right at all.’

‘I suppose that’s true. Why don’t I just tell the old Priest you said your thanks to the Mother and leave it at that? I won’t tell if you won’t.’

‘Aye, that’s probably for the best,’ Damien replied. ‘Tell me though, those paintin’s on the walls? What are they?’

‘Stories. Fables, I guess is the better word for it. Pieces of the holy books of the Mother that highlight something important in the teachings.’ She walked over to the bloody wheat field mosaic. ‘This one, for instance, is about how the Mother defends both man and beast. The wheat is our livelihood, our sustenance. The bear and the tiger represent nature, raw and untameable. The Mother watches over both and protects all living things, just as we must protect our families and communities from the beasts who would try and take them. Meaning the Kingdoms, mostly.’ She went over to the other wall next, pointing to the Mother caressing the woman in childbirth. ‘This represents the sacred bond between Her and actual mothers. She favours mothers and their children above all else and watches over them as if they were her own. They pray to her for fertility and bless children when they’re born.’

‘She shares a lot with the Maiden actually,’ Damien remarked after some consideration. ‘She’s also all about agriculture an’ womanhood. The harvest an’ fertility an’ all that. It’s why Camar is “the Farmland”. It just has the perfect climes to grow crops an’ so everyone does it. Farmlands as far as the eye can see.’

‘That why you need so many slaves?’ Aroha jabbed.

Damien sighed. ‘Aye, it’s true. But it’s the richer farmers an’ noblemen who buy the slaves for their fields. Meanwhile, honest folk in the Kingdom still struggle to find honest work. It’s greed, pure an’ simple. Easier to buy a slave than pay an honest wage. But look, Aroha—’

‘No, it’s fine. I’m not blaming you for anything. The Kingdoms have been trying to take everything from us for millennia. It’s just the nature of things. And the rich here are probably not much different than what you have in Camar anyway.’

‘We will get ye people back, I promise it to ye here an’ now. I’ll get ye family back,’ Damien said solemnly. He looked right at Aroha as he said this and she actually felt herself believe him, felt the conviction in his words as if they were physical things.

She took his hand in hers and shook it gently, adding softly, ‘It’s a promise then.’

*

The Durandals reached Bergia later that same day. They arrived by horse-drawn cart. The entire family – Papa and Mama Durandal and their three sons – were safe and sound. Rylan was the first to spot them in town and he took them immediately to see the others at the Temple. Aroha hugged Dorian so tightly when she saw his stupid face that he had to physically pry her off. She gave each of his two younger brothers the same treatment, even though she didn’t know them all that well. She bid them stay before she ran off to get Penelope, who was inside the dormitory with Damien, cooking up a storm for the Priests.

‘Your true love has arrived, milady,’ Aroha said as she burst into the dorms, out of breath. She had been workshopping that joke the entire time and was quite proud of it. Too proud for the confused faces that greeted her in response.

‘Dorian? Durandal? The Durandals are here,’ she conceded with a sigh.

‘Oh! Let’s go see them!’ Penelope exclaimed.

‘Uh, you better stay here Damien. They don’t know you very well… is all,’ Aroha said, trying not to sound too rude and feeling like she was failing it at spectacularly. ‘It’s just—’

‘No, fair enough,’ Damien shrugged. ‘I’ll watch ye food, Penelope.’

Aroha and Penelope went back out to the front of the Temple and after all the prerequisite greetings and pleasantries had been dealt with and Dorian had his emotional reunion with Penelope, the group settled into more serious discussion.

‘How did you all fair?’ Papa Durandal asked them. Rylan told him all about their journey so far – what had occurred since leaving the Port and what the Priest had told them earlier in the day – in excruciating detail. He did, however, omit the conversation that he and his friends had had about not sticking around in Bergia. Aroha thought it funny as it seemed like important information, but she didn’t comment on it. Rylan was playing his cards close to his chest for the time being and she wasn’t quite sure why.

The Durandals told them of their own journey. They had just barely escaped their homestead by going over their back fence and then circling back to the road after a few miles of travelling in the wilderness and underbrush. The raiders had set the entire town, including the farms, to the torch. They had actually seen the Evenwood farm burning. Penelope did not take the news well, and Aroha did her best to comfort her even if it felt like a futile effort. There was nothing she could say or do that would bring back her family home. Nothing that could change what had happened. There truly was nothing left of the Port. The other farm families, the Ventura’s and the Gambino’s, were still unaccounted for, but Papa Durandal thought they might have fled in the opposite direction, cutting through the wilderness to the south to try and reach the next port town close to Lake Winnig.

‘Have you decided what you’re going to do now?’ Rylan asked.

‘We’re not too sure yet, my boy,’ Papa Durandal said solemnly. ‘We were thinking of heading down to the Capital. And there’s nothing that can be done now but start over. We managed to grab our savings and enough supplies for the trip. It’s the only thing I can think of to guarantee my family’s safety and well-being.’ He straightened out a little and looked Rylan square in the eyes. ‘I don’t know what to tell you, Rylan. It’s over. It was a good run and those were good people, but there’s nothing we can do, for the living or the dead. I have to take care of my family, you understand?’

Rylan nodded his agreement, but Aroha saw the disappointment in his eyes, soon giving way to what she thought must be a grim determination. This was not the news he wanted to hear, but it was not about to change his mind or his plans.

‘You— you guys could come with us!’ Dorian suggested. He glanced nervously at his father before he continued. ‘We’re all that’s left, right? We’ve known each other all our lives, even if we’ve had disagreements in the past. We could stick together, protect each other. Maybe even have a fresh start in the Capital.’

‘And you guys would pull your own weight, right?’ he added hastily, just to appease his father.

Rylan glanced at Penelope and Aroha and they knew exactly what he was going to say. ‘That’s a kind offer, Dorian, but we’re not going with your family. We, uh, we decided on something together and we’re going to pursue it.’

‘What’s that?’ Papa Durandal ventured.

‘You’re going to laugh or try and dissuade us from this, Master Durandal, but please don’t. We’ve decided we’re going to travel to Camar to try and rescue those who were enslaved by the raiders. They took Aroha’s mother and brother, as well as a lot of the other women and children. We’ve discussed this already and we’re in agreement that we can’t just let them go. We have to at least try.’

Papa Durandal squinted at Rylan but was silent. Aroha had no idea what was going through his head, but he turned unexpectedly and began rummaging in the back of his cart. Everyone shared a confused look, but nobody dared to speak up. Eventually, Papa Durandal hefted a sheathed sword from the cart and walked over to Rylan.

‘This here was my father’s sword. He fought the Namarians all those years ago in the Seaward Wars when they tried to take Zeshan. This sword served him well and brought him home safe. He passed it down to me, but I never needed to use it. I was to pass it to Dorian, but he will have no use for it either where we’re going, as I’m sure he’ll agree. I want you to take this sword,’ he thrust the blade into Rylan’s arms and looked the boy over once more. He turned his gaze to Aroha and Penelope and nodded approvingly at them as if they had passed some test.

‘You’re a brave lot,’ he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. ‘I wish you would’ve come with us, but I understand that you can’t just let this go. It’s admirable and foolish and I would have expected no less from you three. I know from being a father to these three louts how scrappy you and Aroha are in a fight. Like a tornado of chaos, you two used to be. So,’ his voice broke a little. ‘So, you protect each other and you take care of each other. I hope the Mother watches over you all and that sword serves you as well as it did my father. Come back home safe.’

He embraced each of them in turn in a warm bear hug and it was impossible to hold back the tears that came with this sign of kinship he showed them. Even the stoic Rylan couldn’t keep his composure this time and he nearly collapsed under the older man’s embrace.

Papa Durandal pat Aroha on the shoulder when he released her, nodding grimly. ‘You find your Ma and brother, you hear me? I’ll look out for your Pa in the Capital as well if he’s still there. Tell him what happened and where you went. And you take care of these two most of all. Don’t do anything too stupid.’

Rylan hefted the Durandal blade up to examine it. It was a magnificent beast of a weapon, broader and bulkier than Damien’s longsword. It had an emerald set into the pommel, and a few lesser gems placed in the cross-guard and along the fuller, until about a third down the blade. He could not believe that the Durandal’s would part with something like this, it was worth a fortune and probably priceless to the family.

‘Master Durandal—’ he began.

‘Say no more, Evenwood. You just take care of it and use it well. That is all,’ Papa Durandal said and Rylan knew it was futile to protest and graciously thanked the man for his generous gift.

The Durandal family and Aroha, Penelope and Rylan shared one last tearful round of hugs and goodbyes. At the merest suggestion of the family staying a while in Bergia, Papa Durandal simply scoffed, ‘Take charity from Bergia? Never in a million years, Evenwood.’

Dorian seemed the saddest of all. He hung back as his family got back up on the horse-cart and spoke to the trio one last time. ‘I wish I could join you, but I have to follow my family, you know?’

Penelope grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t worry about it, Dorian. You take care of each other as well. We’ll be fine.’

Dorian looked away from her and rummaged in his pocket. He drew out a simple silver locket and presented it to Penelope, eyes still averted. ‘I was going to give you this if you came with me to the Founding festival. I want you to have it now. To remember the Port. To remember me.’

Penelope turned around, grabbed her ponytail and pulled it up. ‘Put it on for me, will you?’

Dorian obliged, hands shaking a little. After he clasped it around her neck, she looked at it and beamed at him. ‘It’s simply beautiful, Dorian. Thank you. I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you this time.’ She gave him one last warm hug and a light kiss on the cheek.

He blushed profusely, so to save him any further embarrassment, Aroha tweaked his nose lightly and smiled at him. ‘Chin up, Durandal. We’ll see your ugly mug again, I’m sure.’

‘Oh, it’ll be all too soon,’ Dorian stammered, swatting Aroha’s hand away like a pesky mosquito. His shoulders dropped and he added softly. ‘Make sure you come back, alright?’

‘I promise,’ Aroha assured him. Rylan nodded his agreement.

With a last wave, Dorian jumped up into the cart with the rest of his family.

‘When you get back, come straight to the Capital,’ Papa Durandal called down to them. ‘We’ll be waiting for you.’

With that, the Durandals rode off in the direction of the Capital. It would be a long time until they reached it, far to the south of the continent, but they would. With this last link of their old lives fading away over the horizon, the trio realized that they were all in. There was no turning back now. Their course had been decided and they were going to see it through.