Sunern, Fir of Febla: 33 Xiven

“Where have I heard that name before?” Dhekk murmured under his breath. Karsarath and Kayin stared at each other; as each second passed, the intense sorrow that Kayin managed to keep at bay flooded his senses: the awful, cold weight that spread from chest to fingertips, the hollow thudding of his heart rate. For the briefest of seconds, sharing this grief with someone nearly felt cathartic. Was this what it was like to share a common sadness?

“She was my best friend,” Kayin said finally. His lungs didn’t have any air left.

“Oh,” uttered Karsarath. “I—” But nothing. The tight silence remained far too long. Dhekk muttered something about “packing up the bed rolls,” and backed away to the trees.

Karsarath’s shoulders slouched; as Kayin tried to catch his breath and shake away the visual of Dania’s trembling hands rising to try and stop a mace, the stranger shifted and regarded the dismal surroundings.

“Why did this happen?” he asked, detached. Question of the year.

“Emperor Xiven doesn’t like to be ignored,” Kayin said. “So he sent armies to destroy Yatora and Ikan.” The words were starting to lose their meaning, now.

“And you—” Karsarath regarded Kayin with pursed lips. “You, what, ignored him the most, and he wants to kill you? Is that why you’re so scared of assassins?”

“Scared,” huffed Dhekk in the background.

“I don’t know what I—I don’t know what I’ll do to make him mad,” Kayin said, shrugging. “But he’s determined to stop me before I do do something, including destroy my home, so…that’s kind of…motivation to do whatever I’m supposed to.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“No, no,” Dhekk interrupted, approaching them with the backpack in his hands. He rolled the beds up together, and now tried to tie them to the bag at the same time. “You said it before: you go your way, we go ours. We never saw each other.”

Kayin sighed, “Dhekk….”

But the trio remained frozen in place: the most miserable meeting in dust and soot with a background of a destroyed and helpless city.

“O-okay,” stammered Karsarath. He returned to looking around the destruction, unmoving.

“So on you go,” Dhekk said, gesturing. Karsarath didn’t budge, and Kayin didn’t urge him to. The odds of meeting someone related to Dania, a connection to home despite everything he lost….

“I—I don’t have anywhere to go, so…you…go ahead. I guess I’m…going to take some time to figure out what to do next.” Karsarath looked just about as exhausted as Kayin felt.

“Well,” Kayin started quietly, “you’ve lost your family because of Xiven. I did, too.”

“Whoa, now—” Karsarath’s eyes grew wide.

“Kayin, do not—” But Kayin ignored Dhekk’s protests.

“Why don’t you join us?” he continued.

“No,” shouted Dhekk. “No, this isn’t part of our plan. No.”

“Well—” Kayin ducked to the backpack on the floor, searching the side pockets. “The plan doesn’t say to avoid him—”

“Excuse me?” choked Karsarath.

Kayin now ignored him and said, “What are the odds we’d meet him? Dania was my best friend. In all of Ronia, we run into him now?”

Dhekk stared at Kayin like he’d grown a second head.

“The odds? The odds that a guy without Cigam wanders to two of the only cities on this continent that welcome people without Cigam, where people that don’t have Cigam live? The odds are quite high! There’s nowhere else for him to go!”

“Well—” Karsarath interrupted, “not to argue against myself here, but my sister, the one that lived in Yatora, had Cigam. And in any case, I don’t know what you people are doing—”

Note in hand, Kayin rose to his feet. He shook his head.

“Dania’s mom didn’t have Cigam,” he said.

Karsarath cocked a brow. “Yes, she did. Our mother didn’t give up her Cigam until she was pregnant with me.” Give up Cigam? “Danuli’s quite skilled! She could pull and push pressure with the best of them—”

“No—” argued Kayin, “she said it wasn’t real. No one in Yatora thought Cigam was real.”

“Huh?”

Dhekk snorted. “Yeah. That puddle of mud followed a Namuh of the Future and still insisted Cigam wasn’t real.”

Karsarath repeated, “Huh?”

“They’re not winning any trivia contests over there.” Dhekk chuckled, but stopped. “Well, I guess especially not now.”

“Can you not!” In his frustration, Kayin tore a piece of the paper instructions as he tried to open it. “Dhekk, it says we need to go to Urbana next, and Karsarath is from Urbana. He should join us. He can help.”

“You’re assuming I want anything to do with whatever you’re doing,” said Karsarath. “What—what’s this about me not being…in instructions? Why would I be in instructions? And who is instructing you?”

Dhekk started to protest, but Kayin spoke louder than him: “That Namuh of the Future, her name’s Tidesa, gave us instructions to follow. She sent us here to help survivors of Ikan.”

“That wasn’t Tidesa’s idea—!” Dhekk interrupted. Kayin turned his shoulder to further shut Dhekk out.

“And she’s taking survivors to Kunnu. We have this list of cities that are likely to oppose Xiven.” As he held out the paper, Dhekk reached around and snatched it back.

“Can you not?” he grumbled. “Blab our secrets to everyone, why don’t you? You think that Xiven would only ever send one assassin after you?”

Karsarath seemed froze in time, half stepping back, half at the start of asking a question.

Kayin continued, “He’s practically family. He’s not an assassin.” Now both stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“I—I don’t know you,” Karsarath said, finally recovering. “And—is this some sort of trick? No one that values their life would oppose Emperor Xiven. And you’re—just shouting this sort of treason in the middle of the forest, to a stranger. You won’t entrap me. I am not in the business of—of causing disturbance. I have no quarrel with Emperor Xiven and I mean him no harm.”

“No quarrel?” Kayin echoed with a burst of energy. “He’s the reason your family’s dead! He sent the armies to destroy Yatora and Ikan! It’s his fault I even got taken from my aunt and Dania in the first place! If it weren’t for him, I’d be—”

“Kayin!” Dhekk shouted over him. “This is why your nickname in Wakino is The Idiot. Shut. Up.”

“Fine.” He did, but he kept staring at Karsarath. The cold breeze Kayin disliked from the morning was the only thing to soothe his skin, now hot to the touch.

“Um—I—” Karsarath relaxed just a bit, even cracked a smile, and started to laugh. “This—this is the most ridiculous encounter I’ve ever experienced in my life.” Well, that laughter was utterly unnecessary, but the more time passed, the harder Karsarath laughed; a vein popped on the side of his face. “There must be some divine joke at play, here. You—you’re some kid that’s being targeted by the emperor, because someone that claims to see the future says you will oppose him?”

“It’s—it’s not that simple,” mumbled Kayin. “Or funny.”

Dhekk shrugged. “It’s a little funny.”

“For a moment,” continued Karsarath as he tried to stifle his laughs, “I thought you were entrapping me for treason. But this—this is too much.” After a last, hearty chuckle, he drew a breath. “This is ridiculous. You’re serious—you are going around, seeing who opposes Emperor Xiven—because at some point, someone told him that you would, and then he started targeting you to try to prevent you from targeting him?”

“Well—not—I mean—” The more Kayin stammered, the less words he had. “I—it’s…kind of. I guess.”

“There’s more nuance to it,” Dhekk added, but didn’t offer any additional details.

“So—so who’s on the list? Who opposes the emperor so far?” Kayin and Dhekk didn’t answer him.

“It, I mean, we kind of just started,” mumbled Kayin. He folded in on himself a bit more.

“That’s also not entirely true.” But Dhekk’s statement went ignored.

“So the plan is to go to Urbana,” Karsarath continued, smile still lingering in his gaze, “and ask them to…what? To go fight the Emperor?” He raised a brow. “Urbana’s council is full of cowards. They don’t do anything that hasn’t been done before. They barely even do anything at all! You don’t want to start with Urbana, at least not how the council is now.”

Dhekk muttered, “Not that we asked you.”

Karsarath folded his arms over his chest now, regarding Dhekk. “You’re a concussed, grumpy man and a child that can’t hold a sword properly. What makes you think anyone should join you?” And yet, here he stood, talking to them about this. Giving advice, even.

“Apparently you are,” Dhekk said flatly. Karsarath didn’t correct him. Dhekk picked up the backpack and shoved it at Kayin, who grabbed it with an ugh.

“I’m not a child…. Wait, why are you handing me this?” And why was it so much heavier than the other one?

“Because you’re unarmed, even though I gave you a sword yesterday.”

Karsarath hummed. “What happened to your sword?”

“I used it to open a door and it got all warped.”

“That’s not what swords are made for.” Maybe Kayin didn’t want Karsarath to join them after all, if his sarcasm was as present as Dhekk’s.

“Why didn’t you keep it?” asked Dhekk. Kayin shrugged as he pulled the straps to the bag onto his shoulders. Other than being much heavier, with two bed rolls on top of it, it was much lumpier and stuffed to the brim with far more supplies than what he offered the Ikan survivors. “I could have fixed it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that. I was trying to help those people get out.” Kayin sighed, then gestured to Karsarath. “So, are you joining us? Or are you just going to sit here?”

The man took another glance to the rubble beside them, then shrugged. “Sure, why not. At least…for a little while.”

Xern, Fir of Febla: 33 Xiven

Despite their rather frustrating beginning, having Karsarath join them made things more interesting.

The forest thinned enough for a well-trodden path to emerge, which thankfully, shaved off some anticipated travel time. Trees and mushrooms distanced themselves the longer the trio walked, leaving plenty of space for camping beside the road when the moons emerged, and let in plenty of light.

“Probably just a few hours after sunrise is when we’ll hit Urbana,” Dhekk said, rolling off his heels into a sitting position. In the middle of the group he dug a small hole, which Kayin filled with dried mosses and leaves.

Karsarath nodded. “That sounds right to me.”

After striking the flint against his sword to spark an ember, Dhekk scrambled to his feet.

“Alright, I’m going to go see if I can get us something else to eat. You babysit that and don’t set the forest on fire.”

Kayin was about to mention how the edia were probably nesting for the night, but opted to keep his mouth shut and instead focused on slowly rolling some of the larger pieces of branches into the ditch Dhekk had built. The tiny flame was too much to offer much protection or warmth just yet, but the lack of rains left plenty of fibrous materials for the spark to catch onto.

Karsarath cleared his throat. “So this assassin that went after you, the one that you said went invisible,” he started again, continuing a conversation from the previous night they camped out. Conversation flowed freer whenever Dhekk left to hunt. “You ever see her again?”

Kayin shook his head. “No. The only times they opened the doors were to let in the tutors, to give me meals, or let me run twice a week.”

“That’s so strange,” murmured Karsarath. “Though it makes sense. If you were always watched, her odds of being caught were really high.”

“And maybe they just gave up after that,” said Kayin. “Maybe it was supposed to scare me, or something. I mean—I mean, it did.” The flame crackled. “If they just left me alone, none of this would have happened.”

“What are you even supposed to do that’s so threatening?” At the sight of the fire growing, Karsarath rose to bring the firewood Kayin gathered earlier closer to the ditch. “Kick his pet, or something?”

Kayin laughed. “No. I guess I just try to see him.”

A twig fell out of Karsarath’s hand and onto the fire. Pop!

“See him,” repeated Karsarath. Kayin nodded.

“Yeah. I guess—like, ten years ago, Tidesa had a vision that around this time, or sometime soon, I go and I see Xiven. And Tidesa told too many people about it, so he caught wind of it, and this vision was so scary, he wanted to kill a child.”

“You know that no one has ever seen him, right? No one alive, anyway.” Karsarath lowered himself to the edge of the fire again. Kayin shrugged.

“Yeah, which makes me wonder how I’ll even know if I see him. What if this entire time, Xiven’s just some store owner, or a farmer or something?” He shrugged. “I bet lots of people have seen him and just don’t know it.”

Karsarath cackled with the fire.

“That’s an idea. But I don’t think that’s the case.” He grabbed one of the thinner sticks, gesturing for Kayin to watch as he walked to the softened dirt mound Dhekk had left. “You ever see a map of the whole world?” Kayin shook his head. “Well, there’s us, Ronia, then there’s Orken and Electran.” Karsarath pat the dirt to flatten it out, then drew three large shapes on it: the shriveled potato-looking continent of Ronia, the jagged tear-drop shaped Orken, and a round blob with lots of broken islands beneath it that represented Electran. “Then, there’s an entire island that Xiven rules from—a martial place.” A small circle beside Electran. “If you’re born there, you’re part of his army. No exceptions.” He poked a small point in the island. “And every command comes straight from his keep. There’s a whole ceremony-thing everyone talks about. A general goes in, Xiven talks to him, the general comes out and relays the order.” Kayin hummed as he looked at the dirt shapes.

“So people do see him,” he said.

“Well, I guess. I wouldn’t call those war criminals people, though.” He shrugged. “And no one wants to cross them or get past them anyway.”

“Akri is round, right?” he confirmed. Then he pointed to where they were on the very far left of Karsarath’s drawing. “Why don’t we just go the other way to get to Xiven’s island?”

“I only know the rumors,” Karsarath said. “I’m not much of a seafaring person. But people don’t come back if they sail beyond the islands over here.”

“Oh.” And considering Kayin had never been in water that went above his waist, he didn’t think testing that theory out, personally, was a great idea. Land was better.

“You’re supposed to somehow get to here, sometime soon?” Karsarath asked, poking the tiniest island on the right with the stick.

“No, I think this is supposed to happen in Tornah.”

This just seemed to confuse Karsarath even more. “Wh—Tornah? Why Tornah? That place is a septic tank.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“You will when you experience Tornah. I think Tornah Docks is supposed to be better, but Tornah, itself, smells like fecal matter.”

“Ew.”

“So this—Tidesa,” started Karsarath as he cleared his stick drawing with his foot, “she says she can see the future.” Kayin nodded. “And—well, what else has she predicted?” His leading tone felt familiar. Kayin asked very similar questions once. He never got any answers for certain, and the doubts never went away, but he wasn’t certain if it was because of how much he didn’t understand about Tidesa or how much she refused to answer. Was she an expert at pattern recognition, like Dhekk, that just claimed to see the future, or could she actually predict what was going to happen?

But one thing that eased some of his doubts was a warning that echoed in his mind from years ago. Consequences beyond imagination, she called it. He misbehaved, to the point of physically hurting Sepik. And she saw it happen, before anything else in the day did. Before he even thought of throwing something, she told him to stop, and managed to cover their faces to protect them from the stinging bestas he’d unleashed from the broken jar.

Kayin stared at the fire and picked at his fingers.

“She’s predicted a few things,” was all he said. Thankfully, Karsarath let the matter go.

“Alright.” After shoving a few more branches into the fire with his foot, the man stared at Kayin. “Well, if you’re going to somehow see the Emperor in the world’s most disappointing city, you should at least know how to defend yourself.” Kayin looked up with just enough time to catch a branch Karsarath had tossed to him. “Come on, let’s fix your forms.”