Stepan

But new growth crowds out old

And gold is merely dross

Little glittering, great weeping

Light extracts its cost

-“Little whispers”, a song of Graoungers

Somewhere in the Sibir Taiga

“They’re not from Sol’s Light.”

“No, they came from the west.”

“They aren’t from Earthscrawl either?”

“Are you an idiot? I said they came from west. Do they look like they live here?”

“Good God, they’re so cold.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you don’t dress for the season and can’t even find a warm place to spend the night. Complete offlanders I’m telling you. They’re out of their element. Lucky we found them.”

“This isn’t going to go over well with your people.”

“This isn’t going to go over well with your people!”

“You’re the ones who’re trying to –“

“Oh don’t you start, young man. I’ll not be hearing any of this nonsense fighting.”

“Hey, I think this one’s awake!”

“Good, that’s good. Look, they’re probably going to be okay, you’ll just have to take care of them for a little while.”

“Me? Why do I – why do we have to be the ones to –“

“Because you have room at your hearth and I don’t, boy. Don’t argue, just do it.”

“…Fine.”

“No, I don’t have any idea how they got here.”

“Well they couldn’t have crossed the taiga on foot! You said they came from the west?”

“They must have. Look how they’re dressed.”

“Gates of dross… Kris, what were you thinking, bringing the likes of these into our home? They’re Valers, aren’t they?”

“I… think so?”

“If Invictus finds out –“

“And when’s the last time any soldier came up this far north or east? Don’t be absurd.”

“But don’t we owe it to them to tell the truth –“

“Forget it!”

“How long are you going to keep this up? They’re not going to wake up.”

“They wake up… now and then.”

“I told him they would survive, young lady, and I was telling the truth. They will survive.”

“No one asked you! I don’t know what you’re even doing here, except tracking dirt into my home. I ought to throw you –“

“Stop it!”

“…”

“….”

“I hope you’re sure about this, Kris.”

“Of course I am. Now stop fighting, I’m trying to focus here. And hand me one of those stones.”

When Stepan woke up, the first thing he noticed was the deep-seated ache in his bones, the feeling of being cold all over – not cold that came from outside, because the room was quite warm. In fact, hot stones were laid along his back, comforting weights – but the cold came from inside him. He shivered despite the crackling fire not far from where he lay.

His second thought was one of wonder and fear: where am I? How much time has passed? The last thing I remember –

“The emperor is strong and wise! The emperor is –“

Wood and stone splintering as one, as if each was as easy to break and crack as the other. Pillars crashing down upon him as he pushed them out, crying out in his mind that these people, all from the lowest servant to the personal guard of the Emperor himself, should die with him – and why should they not? After all his sorrow?

His third thought was one of panic – Where are my children? Does the city still stand? Has everything been lost?

He knew that he was hurt, and that he could not easily rise – but he pushed himself up until he was sitting, finding that whatever injuries he still had were not so crippling that he could not move. The hot stones fell from his back and clattered onto the tiled floor nearby – one cracking the tile slightly. Stepan winced in embarrassment and looked around the room.

There was only a single window – a double-pane glass affair, simple and unfrosted, and outside it was snowing slowly, lightly. “It’s been weeks, then,” Stepan said, pushing off the table where he lay until he was standing. He was wobbly on his feet, but when he lurched closer to the hearth, he felt a little better. He looked down – the clothes he wore were simple, rough-woven cloth. Multi-layered pieces of fabric, ornamented with beads – and a heavy jacket quickly thrown over him, trimmed with heavy furs. It reached down almost to ankle level when he stood, but the sleeves were not longer than his own arms.

“Where am I?” Stepan muttered under his breath, and looked up at the hearth.

Hanging above it was an Invictan emblem underneath a sigil of Glory.

Stepan gasped and turned around, eyes darting to opposite corners of the room. He was alone, for the time being. He glanced at the doorway, standing just slightly open. Approached the first – there was a poker sitting in a basket next to it – and pulled out the iron rod. He then turned and moved to a part of the room that would keep him out of the eye of anyone who passed by the door. Breathing heavily, Stepan kept the corner of his gaze on the Glory sigil and held the iron close to his body.

“Calm down, calm down…” he muttered. “You’re not in Carakhte. Gaurl always put the Invictan emblem over the Glory sigil. So you’re not in Gaurlante. Right? That’s…”

He shook his head to try to clear it. He wasn’t thinking straight. His head swam still.

But his ears itched, and he heard approaching footsteps. Stepan flattened himself against the wall, holding the poker out in front of him, while the footsteps came closer to the door. Then stopped in the doorway. He heard an audible gasp. Then a whisper under the breath of a young man: “Lutin, douse.” With a crackle and a sputter the fire in the hearth went out, and the room grew much darker.

The young man stepped into the room. “Old man,” he said, “are you in here?” Then – “damn it, Lutin, is there -?”

Stepan had heard enough and didn’t want to wait for things to get worse. He stepped out from behind the door and raised the poker, expecting to strike his enemy over the head and run. He could figure out where Luca was then, and then maybe he could figure out where they both were, and get out of this damn cold reach wherever it was –

The face of the young man, round, with eyes even rounder in surprise, stopped him short. He kept the poker raised in the air, but didn’t bring it down. The young man saw Stepan’s hesitation, but didn’t strike – he just scrambled back into the hallway. Stepan stepped backwards as well, and to the side, keeping his gaze on the young man – who stood on the other side of the doorway, hands out as if to ward away strikes.

“Hey,” the young man said. “Calm down. You’re safe now. You’re in good hands.”

“In Invictan hands?” Stepan hissed. He adjusted the grip on his poker, shifted his stance, ready to charge. This young man might be naïve – and far too much like Aleks for Stepan’s comfort, with a similar face and eyes – but. But. But.

“Hey, there’s no war here!” The young man held his hands out further, turning his face away a little bit from Stepan – a wince of fear. “That’s way over in the Vale, right? You’re not there anymore. You’re safe. There’s no war. Yeah, okay, sometimes things get a little tense with the people up in Earthscrawl but I mean, there hasn’t been a murder in these parts for years, and the last time that happened everybody worked together to find the one who did it, even the Abrists helped us, and –“

“Keep talking,” Stepan said, holding the poker out as far in front of him as he could, pointed straight at the young man’s chest. “Keep talking.”

“I’m Kris,” the young man said, putting a hand to his own chest gingerly. “I live here. Here, Sol’s Light. You’re in the Sibir Taiga. It’s 245 from the Year of the Talisman. Sixth week of spring.”

“Spring?” Stepan scoffed, jerking his head toward the window.

“We’re in the Sibir Taiga! It’s spring.”

“Does the Wanderer’s Vale stand still? Does the city of Kivv stand?” Stepan’s hand shook as he pointed the poker. “My – my children, are they alive?”

“I don’t know who you are, sir!” the boy said, shutting his eyes and stepping back, his hands held up as though to surrender. “I just know that the war is still going on, at least last I heard any news, which was three weeks ago! We don’t get a lot of world news around here! That’s how we like it. I’m sorry!”

“You…” Stepan growled. “My name is Stepan Zelenko, and my children are in the city of Kivv, hiding from people like you. I tried to stop them from –“ he shook his head. “Carakhte – the Emperor – what happened?”

“Carakhte?” The boy stuttered.

“Carakhte!” Stepan growled, starting to charge. The boy cringed and started to step to the side, but Stepan stopped short, losing heart. “What happened in Carakhte?”

“The border-town? It burned down,” Kris said. “It burned down a season ago. Right after the bulk of the Invictan army started marching north. Last I heard, they’re besieging Kivv right now.”

“And the Emperor?”

“What about Him?”

“He’s alive, is he?”

“Of course He’s alive! How could He not be?”

Stepan shook his head. “Typical.”

“Oh, God, I – I told Oleks he should have hosted you two. But he insisted…”

Stepan lowered the poker, and took a step back. “Us two?”

“Yes!” Kris’s eyes lit up, a spark of hope entering his stance. “There were two of you who showed up here. The other one was – a woman. A Gaurl woman? Wait, did you two come here from Carakhte?”

“Sort of,” Stepan said. “I’m not sure how I got here. Maybe I… bent the earth somehow? Hurled us through space? Maybe the Emperor did it?”

“You saw the Emperor?”

“Boy, I thought I had killed the Emperor. But I guess that didn’t stick.”

Kris couldn’t help a laugh. But he must have seen the harsh seriousness in Stepan’s eyes, because he stopped laughing. “You aren’t joking. You actually – tried to kill the Emperor? But that’s – that’s not possible.”

“Yet here I stand, still breathing. Are you going to try to change that?” Stepan lowered his center of gravity, readying for an upward strike. He might not have been a trained fighter but he knew enough of what it was to move in a moment of danger.

Kris laughed. “Even if I wanted to…” He gestured at the poker. “We agreed, Oleks and me, when we found you. You’d both be well taken care of – here, just because we had the space for it and he didn’t. So please… put down the poker. I’m not going to hurt you and I’d rather you didn’t try to hurt me either.”

Stepan relaxed his stance and lowered the poker so it pointed toward the floor – slowly. His eye remained suspiciously trained on Kris. “Don’t come any closer, though,” he said.

“Of course.” Kris nodded. “Listen… things here are tense even in the best of times, which these are. Best of times here, I mean. Of course out there –“ he jerked his head to the right – “west of here, things are really bad. I’m sure once you’re recovered, you’ll probably want to get going along with your friend. But that’s up to you. Just promise me one thing, will you?”

“Sure,” Stepan said. “One thing.”

“Don’t go trying to fight an army on your own, alright? You seem like a nice man. I don’t want you to go getting yourself killed.”

“Of course not,” Stepan said. “I… I want to help my kids, my friends, everyone… but I’m not stupid. I’m not going to try to fight the whole Invictan forces. I’m just some old man.”

“An old man who can bend the very earth to his will, apparently.”

“Says the boy with a small god of fire resting on his shoulders.”

Kris blinked. “You can – you can see it?”

“No,” Stepan said. “But sight’s not the only way of knowing. Now where’s Luca?”

“Here, right this way. Right this way.”

Kris led him down the hallway – where tapestries hung against walls, gleaming with flame-repellent as the heavy candles behind them glowed and illuminated the whole hall while granting it a pleasant warmth. When he walked, Stepan felt the heat coming back into his bones – the passing of adrenaline making it easier to feel the aftereffects. There was still the ache in him – a tiredness compounded by his alertness. But Kris did not seem apt to take advantage of Stepan’s guard being down, and led him all the way down the hall, through turning corners, and to a much smaller room than the one Stepan had awoken in. it could have been the spare bedroom of Stepan’s own home back in Etyslund. He choked on that realization, smiled through sudden tears, and stepped inside.

“Luca Buday, you young idiot. Of course you’d be awake before me.”

Luca was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders up, eyes on the book she held in front of her. It was an old text, weathered pages, well-loved by the look of it, and written in Gaurl script that Stepan could not read. “I’ve been awake for weeks, Stepan. You’re – finally up again.”

Stepan sighed. “How long exactly has it been?”

“I told you, it’s –“ Kris protested, but Luca held up a hand and turned to look at Stepan.

“Kid’s telling the truth, Stepan.” Stepan couldn’t help but notice the scar in the middle of the hand Luca held up – where a bullet once fired by Fatih Karga had left her marked for life. “We’re safe. For now.”

“So then…” Stepan sighed and took a step into the room.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Kris said, stepping back into the doorway. Stepan closed it after him and knelt down with his back against the door.

The room was small, but cozy, despite the close-by window overlooking a snowy hillside. Birch trees shot up from the ground, out there like staves or pillars set in the ground. They stretched up for dozens of feet before they began to branch out. Still, it was warm inside. On a small table by the bed sat a small pile of Gaurl books and a tray with tea and soup. Luca set her book aside on top of the pile, taking a little slip of paper and putting it between the pages before she removed her finger. Then she took a cup of tea, poured into it from the samovar, and brought it to Stepan.

“I’ll say this first – unless anything has changed in the last few days, Kivv is still standing, which means that your children are fine. Or at least alive. I’m sure we would have heard if it were otherwise.”

Stepan’s hands shook as he took the tea. “But still I can’t go and help them.”

“We could go,” Luca murmured. “I would go if you wanted to. I’d try to help you.”

“We brought Carakhte down?”

“No,” Luca said. “We only helped light the spark. The Invictans were already planning to burn the border-town as they left – they were going to blame it on the Adma, use it as justification for further mobilization against the Valer terrorists. Seems like it might’ve worked, but I suppose we still threw a wrench into things.”

Stepan tilted his head. “We gave them the excuse they wanted?”

“Well.” Luca reached back to the tray, took her half-cooled cup of tea, and sipped it. “Back in the Gaurl Core, things are… less than harmonious. Some of those being mobilized are refusing to fight. Adma cells are causing chaos inside the Core itself, to say nothing of the provinces, which the Empire is struggling to maintain control over. I’ve heard there was rioting in the streets of Kurikuneku – can you imagine it?” She shrugged. “Lots of questions being asked and going unanswered by the authorities. It’s said that the body of a famous scholar was found in an alleyway, but he wasn’t killed by petty thieves – he was shot with a kind of bullet that only the Emperor’s guards use. And there’s always the question of what really happened at Carakhte.” She set the empty teacup down. “Stepan, that’s all very far away from us now. I hope you didn’t shake up the young man too badly. This land, here? It isn’t at war.”

“But I saw a sigil of Glory on the hearth –“

“Stepan, I have a sigil of Glory over my hearth.”

He found that he had nothing to say to that, so he took a long drink from the teacup. It was good – tasted of Bergenia and southern lemon and once-frozen mint. “So how did we get here?”

“If I had to guess?” Luca shrugged. “After you started dropping buildings, well, one of them landed on you a little bit. And I tried to grab you, to push the debris over, get you out. Everything was…” she paused. Poured some more tea, picked it up and held the cup so tight that Stepan wanted to reach out and take it just so it wouldn’t crack. These teacups were too pretty to break carelessly – lined with pink and gold, painted flowers and leaves. They were signs of true spring against the false spring of the snow and evergreens outside.

“Everything was on fire. And there wasn’t exactly anywhere we could run, but I couldn’t just leave you under there and besides – all the people who helped me when I was trying to prepare the trap, I couldn’t just leave them behind. Or you. But when I tried to drag you out of there, something happened. I’m not sure exactly how to describe it but… the Emperor was there.” Luca shuddered. “Do you know what the Emperor actually is under that skin?”

“I assume you are going to say, God.” Stepan sipped his tea. Sighed.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. The fundamental spirit of Aivor is there beneath that flesh, but do you know what I felt at that moment, from that spirit?”

Eirchais, waking up again from the back of Luca’s mind, held lightly onto the backs of her shoulders. You do not need to speak of this if it hurts to do so… Luca shrugged off the divine fragment and rolled her neck, flexed her fingers, looked down at the tea in her cup, anywhere but Stepan’s weary eyes.

“There is nothing, nothing in that spirit but a longing to go home.”

“And home is…”

“The Aether, of course.”

“Then Aivor is just another Primordial…”

“No!” Luca shook her head. “Aivor is a God, Stepan. Sol. The fundamental light. Not a Primordial, the Primordial, to use your terms. Primordials are divine fragments, Aivor is the center from which the fragments sliver. But that light has a purpose, a single overwhelming desire, and that desire is to go home. I thought that maybe, it was the human Emperor’s will that was overriding the spirit he’d inherited. That he’d somehow bent that to his own will the same way he’d bent so much of the world. And in a way that’s true… but that’s only because the only thing that Aivor wants is to go home. It’s the one thought that filled my mind when the Emperor tried to kill you. But you survived, and I survived, and here we are now. Pushed away instead, across a country and a half.”

“So we didn’t bring ourselves here.”

“No, of course not.” She sighed. “Look, if there’s any way that we could quickly get out of this place and back to the Vale, I would have suggested it. But as it is… things are already in motion that we can hardly affect at all. And no matter what you do, your children will have to fight the Invictans.”

“It barely even hurts,” Stepan murmured. “It should hurt a lot more. I don’t think I can accept losing everyone, not again, but… it doesn’t hurt as much as it should.”

Luca nodded. “You just woke up. It’s been one insane occurrence after another. Give yourself time.”

“But they’re in danger.”

“And as soon as we’re done here, I’m going to go to Earthscrawl and tell Oleks that you’ve woken up. And then the four of us – Kris and us and Oleks – we will meet and we’ll discuss what to do next. I’ve already talked to both of them about this a few times, and there are some people here who might be willing to help us. Not to fight, that’s out of the question. No one here has any weapons except for hunting rifles and axes. Besides, the war isn’t here, and no one wants it to be here.”

“Then what will we do?”

“We’ll do what we should have been doing from the start,” Luca said with a slight smile. “Trying to rescue people, heal people, instead of just killing the ones in our way. Now why don’t you relax and get something to eat. You must be starving.”

Indeed, Stepan felt as though he hadn’t eaten in years. And when he left the room and wandered downstairs, he found a kitchen well stocked with all kinds of breads, nuts, preserved cheeses, salted meats – he feasted until he could not eat any more, driven by a singular desire to get strong again so that he could go west, hoping that his family would still be alive when he got there.