"I’ll try to be brief," Hugo said quietly, looking at Yuffilis, who sat on a stool in the room across from him. The curtains were drawn, morning twilight cloaked faces and objects. "When I left, the situation was like this… We attacked at the beginning of April, when the snow melted around Petista and on the pass. The preparation, training of soldiers, gathering of troops went smoothly. We managed, over the course of several nights, to concentrate the army in one place, unnoticed by Saelin’s forward posts built at the foot of Olmaer. You didn’t see it, but the sight was terrifying—almost like the Man-Made Mountains in Tepei-Kuon: hundreds of towers with cannons and strong garrisons literally covered the plain, some built on mountain slopes, and all within less than an arrow’s flight of each other. Every day, troops drilled between them, lit fires, tested new infernal machines often sent from the factories… Winter was dreadful. Our factories, forges worked every night, belching smoke; sometimes the wind surely carried the smoke toward Petista, but fortunately the enemy didn’t notice. And we constantly trembled, living in fear of being discovered, of Saelin in the Citadel of the Wolf learning the location of the Fortress. I think his spies crawled plenty through the mountains, but again, the position of the base turned out to be very lucky. Danger passed us by."

  "Well, Petros and Rita and I tried hard when we chose the place," Yuf smirked. He was shaving, scraping stubble, looking more at the grimy little mirror than at Hugo. "Rita picked that valley perfectly. You can only get into it by two routes: from Petista’s side and from Derelzfjord’s side. Though that created problems for you, too. You couldn’t quickly move armies around, could you?"

  "Yes, but we had to accept that," Hellerson sighed. "Anyway, on April fifth, we took the risk. The action was coordinated with the eastern front—on the same day and hour, Asternia was besieged in the east. Its garrison wasn’t very large, and after three days of siege, the city surrendered. The soldiers nearly lynched everyone who bore the crests of Tepei-Kuon—luckily, Geonar somehow managed to keep the situation under control. But still, when the rebels stormed the city, the slaughter was terrible. Envoys said the streets were literally littered with corpses, and no one managed to escape."

  "When you cut down a forest, the chips fly," Yuf said coldly. "And what about Petista?"

  "The barrier was broken in a single night assault, five outposts destroyed at once, and the troops rushed toward the city. Over the winter, they’d managed to build a strong wall and organize defenses, so the battle was long and difficult… but we were right to throw our main force there. The siege lasted at least a week. The only thing that kept us from retreating was that we’d revealed ourselves. If we had gone back to the Fortress then, all our efforts would have been wasted. And the city was taken. The defensive outposts were nearly all burned. The garrison of Petista was wiped out; it was made up mostly of pirates and Nocturns. There were, however, some Alvens from those regular troops of Aktida who, after the Empire’s rise, had sworn fealty to Saelin. They, of course, surrendered at once and greeted us like children, saying they had not hoped for liberation so soon. Some we sent to the reserve, some we left in the city to form a new garrison."

  "That’s all well and good," Yuf nodded, "but what now? We can’t just sit still. The troops must move on Mainor…"

  "They will," said Hugo. "The plan has already been laid out. It was ready back in winter, and now all that remains is to carry it out precisely. But even now it’s clear we face many difficulties."

  "For example?"

  "The siege of Mainor. The city won’t surrender easily. Unfortunately, we can’t get inside the walls the same way the messengers slipped out last winter, through the Ilvion and the sewers. It’s almost impossible to climb back into the city from the sewers. So, in essence, we’re left with one hope: Maclevirr, diversion, and well-prepared sabotage. One of the spies must infiltrate the city, blend into its garrison, gain access to the gates, and at the appointed hour open them. Meanwhile, Maclevirr will prepare those Alvens who can still be found in the capital. Then the battle will end in our favor…"

  "I see," Yuffilis said quietly. "That will be me."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "That will be me. The one to infiltrate Mainor and open the gates. None of your spies can handle such a mission, believe me, Hugo. It takes inhuman endurance, nerves of steel, a complete absence of fear and moral scruples, because sometimes it will require the harshest of actions. I’ve had to do missions like that many times on Petros’s orders, and I’m used to it. Your spies might fail. But I promise you, and the entire rebel army, that I won’t. I’ll establish contact with Maclevirr, build a powerful new agent network, and when the time comes, Mainor will be ours."

  "Yuffilis, we need you," Hugo said, worried. "Not as an agent hiding behind city walls, impossible to contact. We need you as a talented, experienced tactician who has already commanded combat units. People like you are damn few. Every one of you counts…"

  "Hugo, don’t argue." Yuf’s face looked unbelievably tired and worn. "Listen, I believe in you. And more than that: I know exactly what I can and can’t do. Yes, I proved myself a year ago in the border skirmishes and in the first battle for Mainor, but if I’m outside the city instead of inside, I’ll be far less useful to you. Understand? Hugo, this isn’t just an explanation, it’s an order from someone who, in truth, stands above you in our hierarchy—and orders are not debated. I will go to Mainor. And I promise you—I promise Aktida—that the city will be in our hands."

  Hellerson was silent for a while, staring out the window.

  "This isn’t what I wanted when I came here," he said through his teeth. "Yuf… honestly… I’m afraid. Afraid for the outcome of all this, because I know no one will give us a second chance. Either we win this war, or… our descendants will need decades more to gather strength and try again. And I’m afraid for you. You and Petros—you’re the ones without whom none of this would exist. And you know perfectly well the role long destined for you in our bright future, if it comes. Petros is old, and he’s said himself that everything will fall under your control. If… Aktos forbid… if something goes wrong…"

  "Let’s close this subject," Yuf cut him off sharply. "No discussion. And not a word about what might go wrong. It won’t. Or else, damn it, none of this makes sense, because we can’t afford fear or doubt. Only then can we win."

  Hugo said nothing, glaring at him from under his brows. Yuf suddenly realized from his face that the general wasn’t finished with the news.

  "Something else?"

  "Yes," the Kald said reluctantly. "And this is another reason I don’t want you in Mainor. Intelligence reports very bad news, Yuf. Saelin has developed a new weapon. Worse than anything before. We used to fear cannonballs that could wipe out a regiment at once… Now he has the power to destroy entire cities with a single shot. The engineers of Tepei-Kuon call this weapon ‘rockets.’"

  "Nonsense," Yuf muttered. "An entire city with one shot? How to prove it? What, he’s already tested them?"

  "In a testing ground in the Eastern Province. They say at night it was as bright as day. The earth was left with a crater miles wide, Yuf. Everything living within that circle was turned to ash. Yuf, I fear he’ll use this thing on us if we drive him out of Mainor."

  Yuf shuddered. A chill ran down his spine. Suddenly, he remembered how long ago Kairu had told him about one of his nightmares.

  A shooting star.

  "It’s nothing," he said aloud, forcing his voice to sound firm. "We’ll find a way. He won’t frighten us."

  ***

  Far away over the sea, dawn was breaking. The window was open, the wind swayed the old curtains in the room. It was cold, but Kairu sat with his hands resting on the windowsill, wearing only an open shirt and light trousers, feeling his body begin to tremble as goosebumps covered his skin. The wind cut right through him. The sea was restless, crashing against the pier, rocking the huge ships on foamy waves. Kairu turned, gazing into the soft gray morning dimness of the room, at the bed where Rita lay curled up under the blanket, asleep.

  As always, he was captivated by her, and the thoughts already muddled in his mind now drifted away completely. He didn’t think about how to tell her everything Petros had revealed. He thought about her red hair, her green eyes, her warm, soft lips, her searing breath. And she slept restlessly, clutching the corner of the blanket with a small hand, breathing quick and loud. Only recently, he had noticed how small her hands were for arms so strong, hands that handled both sword and bow with ease…

  Octarus lay on the table, its glyphs flickering blue from time to time, and for some reason, it seemed alive, as if the sun were about to dazzle it with rays, and the Kraken would tighten its tentacles in a deadly embrace. And the tentacles tightened. Squeezed him, not letting him escape, not letting him throw off his hopes, his worries, his fears. They left him only the choice, whose consequences for him would be nearly the same either way. And the world would never be the same again… for him.

  Rita stirred. She was already awake, lying still as she lingered in the last moments of fading drowsiness, savoring her final morning in a real bed on a soft feather mattress, unwilling to let go of deep morning sleep. Kairu smiled as he watched her roll from side to side and finally open her eyes, squinting at him.

  "Good morning," he said softly.

  "Mhm," Rita mumbled. "Early bird, aren’t you? Instead of lying in a bit longer… You left, and I froze alone in that draft. Now, for the next few months, we’ll be sleeping in hammocks in the hold—remember that?"

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "How could I forget," Kairu chuckled.

  "Then come here."

  Kairu smirked, got up, and slowly moved toward the bed.

  …Later, they lay back against the warm pillows, staring at the ceiling, Rita’s head on his chest, his hand stroking her hair. Outside the window, the ocean roared. Kairu was silent, his thoughts once again drifting far from this room, no matter how much he wanted to think only of Rita and the moments they had just shared.

  "Kairu," Rita said gently. "Something’s wrong, isn’t it?"

  Of course. She could not help but suspect. She knew him as well as she knew herself. Every trace on his face was visible to her, and each one mattered.

  "No," Kairu said automatically, then immediately admitted: "Yes…"

  Was fate itself pushing him toward this? But fate must not be accepted as it is, it must be cut and forged with a hammer in the Dragon Forge… A broken sword, shattered in Nalvin by Orwell Cassander, Nalvin fallen, and Kairu lying on the ground, breathing the autumn wind, fallen leaves spinning above him… yellow, red, fiery… like Rita’s hair.

  "Rita…" he began, but choked. "Have you… have you ever been to sea?"

  Rita looked at him carefully.

  "No. Natall said newcomers always suffer seasickness, so half the voyage we’ll spend bent over the railing… But honestly, I think it must be amazing—sailing with nothing but water around you, all the way to the world’s edge."

  Kairu smiled faintly.

  "Norton once asked Father: what’s there, beyond the world’s edge? And Father said, that’s where a person flips upside down and ends up on the other side. And there are people living there, too."

  Rita laughed.

  "It’d be funny if the same Alvens and Kalds who came across the sea two thousand years ago and conquered this land are, right now, walking upside down somewhere directly beneath us… What if you could grab a shovel and dig your way down to them?"

  "Would you like to live upside down, too?"

  "I don’t know. Probably uncomfortable—the blood rushing to your head," she laughed, then added more seriously:

  "But I’d like to see that land one day. I’d like to know why they sailed from there to here—and never went back. Was it really so terrible there?"

  "Maybe they were driven out. Just like they drove the Nocturns, Centaurs, and Druids from their own homeland."

  "Sometimes I think… maybe Saelin is making things better," Rita whispered, gazing out the window. "He’s restoring historical justice, in a way. He divided the land between Alvens and Nocturns, gave plots to people from Talaska and goblins from the Desert Lands. What right did our ancestors have to take this land from them? The right of the strong? Well, Saelin came, and by the same right of the strong did the same thing. Why is he the bad one? And our ancestors—were they bad for driving the Nocturns from Aktida, or good for founding our state?"

  Kairu stayed silent. The words "bad" and "good" spun in his head, but he could not define them, just as he didn’t know how to answer her rhetorical question. But Rita wasn’t waiting for an answer. Distracted, she traced her hand across his skin, lost in her thoughts. At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

  "You up yet?" It was Natall outside. "Quickly, downstairs! We need to set sail early."

  Kairu and Rita rose slowly and reluctantly began dressing.

  Everyone else was already gathered downstairs. Petros had put on his traveling cloak and pack; the others had loaded their belongings onto the ship the night before, but the mage hadn’t entrusted his things to anyone, keeping them with him overnight.

  "Hugo!" Rita cried, throwing herself at the Kald’s neck. He hugged her, holding her tightly before letting go with a laugh. "Hugo, you’re here too!"

  "Of course—how could I miss such an event?" the Kald replied. "Rita, my girl! How long it’s been since I saw you! Aktos grant memory, since you left Petista… And you’re still the same. Rushing into adventures without thinking of the consequences."

  "Look who’s talking," Rita smiled slyly. "You’ve come from the Fortress, haven’t you? Tell us. I bet your adventures are even more exciting than ours…"

  "I will. On the way to the port, I’ll tell it for those who overslept and managed to miss my arrival."

  "I thought this day would never come," Viggo grumbled. They had stepped outside and now stood on the pier. "Phew! What a wind! Fresh enough to wake you in an instant…"

  Kairu adjusted the sword hanging at his belt. He would have given anything for this day never to have come. The houses on the pier were shrouded in morning gloom. The port was waking, and through the cries of seagulls came the voices of workers and sailors.

  Hugo talked and talked and talked, and the others—Rita, Viggo, Ashley, Demetra, and Roger—listened open-mouthed. These tidings from Aktida, now once again aflame with war, seemed here, in this haven of peace and calm, like something utterly unreal, from another world. A couple of weeks ago, Kairu would have joined in their emotions, listening to Hellerson’s tales with keen interest. But now he heard nothing. He was lost in his own dark thoughts.

  "Kairu!" Petros’s voice brought him back to reality. "How are you? Ready?"

  From the mage’s tone, Kairu instantly guessed what he was really asking.

  "Not yet," he rasped, surprised at how weak his own voice sounded. "In a moment… Once we reach the ship…"

  The wooden planks creaked beneath their feet, the waves thundered against the pier. Kairu walked across the boards as though mounting a scaffold. Around him was a whole world, millions of people, each with their own thoughts, troubles, and sufferings, but none could fathom the depth of the torment of the Seer, fated to become the hero and savior of humankind… And the sun rose higher, clouds parting on the horizon to reveal the pure blue of the morning sky.

  On the deck of Andromeda, sailors bustled about, loading crates and barrels of provisions into the hold. A cart with luggage and harnessed horses, hired by Hugo for departure, stood before the lowered gangway. Natall shook hands with Hellerson, Roger, Yuf, and Norton, waved to Ashley, and bounded up the gangway to bark orders and prepare for departure. Roger lifted Ashley and set her into the cart. Final embraces began. Yuffilis, no longer hiding and unashamed before anyone, kissed Demetra again and again as tears streamed down her cheeks. Petros hurried up onto the deck after Natall and, from there, called down:

  "Take care of yourselves! Where you’re going, it’ll be hot… We’ll meet again in Tepei-Kuon! Kairu?"

  "Coming. Rita…"

  He drew a deep breath. The world seemed to step back, leaving only the two of them in its center.

  "There’s something I need to tell you."

  The words he had hastily prepared now felt so useless, so inadequate to express all that weighed on his heart. He even hated himself for having to explain it to her in such a primitive way, terrified that Rita would not understand. They slowly moved aside, away from the others standing by the gangway, and those last steps, those last seconds, were the hardest of all, as though they were but a brief reprieve before the inevitable plunge into darkness.

  "Rita, I… back in Petista, I didn’t yet know that my path would end here." He spoke very quietly, though it seemed to him that every word could be heard over by the gangway, and the thought made him nearly whisper. "All of them…" Kairu gestured behind him. "This is not their path. The task on Darius Island—I must finish it alone."

  Rita was silent. Kairu searched her eyes, desperate to see whether she understood even a little, and at the same time trying to remember them exactly as they were, to carry them with him to the very end.

  "Do you remember, back in Tepei-Kuon?" Kairu asked. "I was sure I had lost you. I don’t want that to happen again. That’s why I must go alone."

  "I won’t stay behind," Rita said quietly.

  "I know you’re not afraid. But this—this is for me. Don’t ask why it has to be this way, I truly couldn’t answer… I wish I could throw everything away and stay here with you. But I can’t."

  A terrible, ringing silence fell. Then Rita spoke.

  "So you understood nothing," she said. "All this time, you thought you were shielding me from trouble, that I was too reckless, always chasing danger? You thought I was just waiting for a chance to throw myself into battle, and it was your cool head that had to hold me back? But I’m not like that. Maybe I was, at sixteen… before I met you. But you never knew something. I never told you how terrified I was when the steps turned in the shrine of Aktos, and I fell down into that darkness… How I nearly died of fear when I found myself alone there, and how happy I was in those first moments when I realized you hadn’t left me… You don’t understand how I waited for you that winter in Mainor, when you promised you would come, and I knew you would, because you couldn’t do otherwise, because you had already fallen in love with me back in Petista. And you don’t understand how I searched the whole city for the Twelfth regiment, how I refused to believe the reports of your execution until the very end, and how wildly happy I was when I found you alive…

  "And in Onklag, when you rode out to try the Citadel again—I could barely walk then, but still I wanted to take a horse and chase after you, just to be beside you… because I too was afraid of losing you. You were busy thinking you wanted to be a hero for me, and all that time I was trying to save you from yourself…"

  Kairu understood. He embraced her, awkwardly pressing his face into her hair. She leaned into him, her shoulders trembling as she fought against tears.

  "Is it Petros?" she whispered. "Did Petros make you do this?"

  "Rita…"

  "There’s no difference between good and evil. There’s only what we decide is right. If you believe this is right, I’ll obey. Just tell me… will you come back?"

  Kairu had never thought it would be so hard to say the word ‘no’. He hated himself, wished he could sink through the earth, wanted to scream yes, yes, yes! But Rita understood, and she stepped back.

  "I believe you," she said. "I believe you in everything. If you say it must be so, then let it be. Why?… Perhaps because I’ve never in my life loved anyone the way I love you. And because since I lost my father, I’ve never been able to rely on anyone the way I could rely on you. Everything you say… I want to believe it, because I can’t do otherwise… But tell me—can nothing be done?"

  "It’s a choice too," Kairu rasped. "Between you and thousands of lives. What would you choose in my place? For now, you know what I’m going toward, and what awaits me there."

  "That will be my only comfort, I suppose," she whispered. "Kairu… I’ll never be able to love anyone the way I love you. Never, in this damned life."

  "Nor I. And I love you too. I do this because I love you more than anything in the world. Do you believe me?"

  Rita lifted her face, and for a moment, a strained smile flickered on her lips. The next instant, she turned away, and Kairu understood why: one more embrace, one more touch, one more kiss—and everything would collapse like a house of cards; they would simply be unable to part.

  His eyes stung as he watched her back, but she did not turn even once as she climbed into the cart.

  Seagulls cried overhead. The Andromeda raised its great snowy sails, instantly filled by the wind. Natall already stood on the bridge, hastily barking final orders. Kairu slowly, staggering like a drunk, climbed the gangway. He felt sick, his vision swam again, his mind refused to believe what was happening. Rita’s face stood before his eyes.

  The gangway was lifted, Natall shouted something more, the last sails flew up, caught by the wind, and Andromeda slowly pushed off. The waters carried her, sailors hurried to secure the rigging, and the corvette majestically glided southwest. The shore receded quickly, the ship’s narrow bow slicing the waves as it raced faster and faster, the wind urging it on, slapping at the sails as though a giant swan had spread its wings to take flight.

  The cart jolted gently as it rolled off the pier’s planks onto the stone-paved road leading toward the city gates. Sleep overcame Ashley, and she dozed off, leaning back against the bundles of clothes and blankets. Norton stared thoughtfully at the ship. He remembered being a slave on a pirate vessel, remembered storms and tempests, spray, waves, and lightning, the groan of the ribs, the whistle of the wind, and rain streaming down his face as his hands, torn bloody, dragged the ropes, while the overseer’s whip lashed his bare back… Rita was silent, her eyes never leaving the ship gliding full-sailed across the blue waters in the morning sun—an insanely beautiful sight, forever seared into her memory. That ship sailed away and carried off with it everything she had hoped for, believed in, and lived for until now. And to the very end, she could not admit to herself that this time it truly was over.

  "I’ll be waiting," she whispered to herself, knowing it was pointless—and yet she could not hold it back. "I’ll be waiting…"