A: Ch. 10.2

Hilt rubbed at his eyes as the continuous ache of battered muscles nagged his consciousness. He used to love the feeling; he would fall asleep with a broad grin on his face, content with a particularly difficult training session or a glorious battle.

But Hilt felt genuinely tired. Exhausted. Weary. He recalled listening to the other God Generals whose ages were far more apparent in their lined faces after a battle than his own. They would talk of losing their stride, of how their lives of experience were no longer a benefit as their old bones and muscles no longer cooperated. Was that happening to Hilt? Physically it couldn’t, he knew that. Not yet at least.

Then why were the Gods so cruel to dangle the promise of an easy, peaceful rest far out of his reach? The General sighed, tilting his head back to allow the soothing droplets of moisture stream down his face.

He had been careless. He had lost control. He had allowed a complete stranger, this Lazuris, to provoke him and bring out his greatest secret. Hilt silently cursed himself. He had been holding onto that nugget for a later time, like if he truly needed to scare that little princess.

Hilt glanced over at the slumbering form across the camp. He had already re-bandaged her wrist and placed a salve of Aeonium along the several burns on her arms and cheeks. His mind turned over the last question she asked him, still trying to decipher a proper answer. How had they survived? The smoke alone should have seared their lungs and then his leap into the falls… He took the brunt of it while in his Lycaon form, but the impact should have shattered Kya’s spine. Yet they both walked away with minor injuries. Walked away… He didn’t actually remember hitting the water. He remembered jumping, and then panting on the shore at the other end of the city. Thinking of it sent prickling pinches along the back of Hilt’s arms.

This ultimately led to his mind focusing on the two variables of the night: the stranger, Lazuris, and his crazed moth. He was a sorcerer of some sort, Hilt had finally accepted that. The fire, the beast which ripped off the castle tower and created a bridge to the cliff— the thought of it still made the General’s blood boil. That stranger knew his name; he must have been watching him for weeks! Months! He had been watching his movements, studying his habits. He saw Hilt’s obsession with the hidden castle grow and ferment. How else could he know so much?

Hilt forced himself to remember his calm breathing exercises. He looked at his hands and forced his fingers to unclench. It was too late; his nails had already drawn blood in his palm. He ignored it.

If only he could get some decent sleep. It would clear his mind and he would finally piece together the puzzle of this fire and the strange man with silver hair. As it was, Hilt could only come to the absurd conclusion that this Lazuris saved both him and Kya. Then why try and kill them in the first place?

The girl stirred in her sleep. She seemed to take his reveal well enough. He supposed that her trying to run away in crippling terror was a step up from her constantly trying to kill him. At least that was what he kept trying to tell himself.

Still, she had walked back to her little bed without too much argument. He didn’t leave her much choice. After her initial surge of horror and fear she quickly calmed down. Hilt doubted that would last. It was just shock. He inwardly groaned; he really didn’t want to kill this one.

“You haven’t slept, have you?”

Hilt looked up to see Kya sitting upright, gazing over at him.

“I’ve gotten enough,” Hilt lied, fiddling with the tip of one of Kya’s arrows.

“Thank you,” Kya said softly.

Hilt cocked his head, confused.

The girl motioned to the new canopy of greenery above her, shielding her and the little fire from the rain. “Thank you,” she reiterated.

“You’d slept for a while. You’d have frozen solid if I hadn’t.”

Kya was tugging at pieces of bark and pine needles from the thin blanket.

“So the Capital is gone?” she asked quietly.

“Aye.”

“And everyone…?”

“I searched for half a day after the flames died down and looted what I could. Any survivors fled south, not north.”

Hilt expected this information to sadden her, but her face remained stoic.

“How did this happen? I mean, what did this? What was that… thing on the…”

“Lazuris,” Hilt growled.

Kya visibly flinched at his quick change in tone. “What?”

“Lazuris. The man with the silver hair. He was the one standing on the rock who controlled the flames.”

The girl’s mouth parted into a confused pout. “I don’t understand.”

Slowly, Hilt recounted everything that had happened from that night, starting with the ridiculous challenge set by the idiot knight Cress. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but Hilt diligently narrated every detail he could remember, from the conversation with the strange sorcerer to the demonic insect which somehow guided him through the castle.

Kya remained quiet throughout, her focus remaining on her hands. It wasn’t until Hilt came to the part of them in the prisoner’s cells that she perked up.

“But what about the other one?” she asked.

Hilt blinked, confused. “What other one?”

“There was the silver haired one, and the purple one.”

Hilt stared at her for a moment. She didn’t appear to be lying—there would be no reason to, anyway—yet he knew there had only been Lazuris on that cliff.

Kya spoke again, trying to explain herself. “He was tall, with hair long past his waist and eyes like searing white flame.”

“You obviously hit your head harder than I thought,” Hilt said, waving off the proposal. In such darkness, his Lycaon eyes would have seen much better than her own. There was no one else there.

The girl looked hurt and oddly frightened. Hilt reassured himself that Kya was simply fighting the aftereffects of her concussion.

“The castle fell to pieces and the north tower was used to make a bridge, which subsequently fell. I changed, as you saw, and to save our lives I jumped into the falls.”

“And we survived?”

“We survived.”

Kya fell silent as she pondered this.

“As soon as we came to shore I carried you to the stables and found both our horses. Strangely, it was one of the only buildings untouched by the fire. A couple of your packs were already there, hidden in the hay, but someone had come through and stolen much of the tack. Fierant’s gear was still there, but all I could find for you runt of a beast was the harness. Made it rather difficult. I did manage to save all of our… weaponry.”

Hilt motioned to his collection: his two swords, her bow and quiver, her small blade, his collection of knives and finally her revolver with only two shots left.

The girl was chewing on her lower lip, but still reticent. 

“I waited until the fires burned out and looted the town for anything of value. I found some food and some furs that weren’t too scolded. The rest was beyond any use.”

“So,” Kya mumbled, “what now?”

“Nothing’s changed, as I said before. We’re going north.”

“What about survivors?”

Hilt was growing impatient. “Haven’t you been listening? They all went south. They probably joined the nomads or fled to Cauntin.”

Kya looked pale and sickly. Hilt sighed and shook his head. The girl wasn’t thinking straight. He prayed to the Gods it wasn’t permanent damage.

“You need to eat,” Hilt insisted. He stood up, his back popping from being still for so long, and snatched up a small satchel of dried fruit. “Eat this on the way.”

“…the way?” Kya asked. Her eyes were unfocused and dazed.

“The winds are changing. The first snow will be tonight and we need to find a proper shelter.” Hilt tossed her the fruit and started gathering up everything from the camp. Kya simply watched him with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you let me die?” Kya asked slowly.

The General turned to stare at her. “Well, since the castle was burning, I had few options as far as guides to the north, and I had to settle for the last skáld in all of the Capital.” His sarcasm wasn’t appreciated, so he tried a different approach. “This man, this Lazuris, he was there for me, at least as far as I could tell. It wouldn’t have been right for you to die because of something I did.”

“I thought you had never seen him before?” Kya piped in.

“I hadn’t!” Hilt growled. A strong guilt gurgled up from his stomach. “I just… It didn’t seem right, all right? I was moving on instinct that night.”

“Why would your instinct lead you back into a burning castle when you could have easily gone the other way?”

Hilt’s knuckles cracked as he nervously massaged his hands. He was starting to regret his decision. “I don’t know. Would you rather I had left you there?”

“No.”

“Then stop asking so many damn questions!” Hilt snapped. Kya fell reticent. The General rubbed his aching eyes, feeling as if he’d lived for a thousand miserable years without a night’s sleep. “So, which way to the Fortress?” Hilt asked.

“Easy,” Kya responded.

The Lieutenant picked up a small stone and chucked at a brilliant maple tree with bright crimson leaves and ashy white bark. The rock bounced off the trunk and the leaves trembled violently, much more than they should have. Hilt stared curiously as the leaves vibrated with alarming speed until the whole tree appeared to be trapped in its own fierce storm.

With a flurry of minute pops, a handful of the leaves began to snap from their branches, seemingly of their own accord. They danced in the air in perfect pairs, fluttering with the grace of a lofty butterfly. The pairs of leaves, which Hilt was quite certain were not leaves, scurried into a single file line before flying, and he was quite certain they were flying, every so softly through the forest, creating a marked path which led to yet another maple tree.

Kya smiled at Hilt’s befuddled face. “We follow the Scarlet Trail.” 

Ready?

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