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Walking on Water

Contents:
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Introduction:
    Contents
    Summary
Story:
    Walking on Water
    Prologue: Once Upon a Time
    Chapter One: The Creation
    Chapter Two: Brotherly Love
    Chapter Three: Jericho Tabour
    Chapter Four: The Town of Delmar
Other:
    Points of Interest
    Important Stuff

Summary:

Hizashi and Sukage, the accidental Creators of the Universe and more importantly, gods, have been together ever since before they can remember. When Hizashi leaves to fight demons and does not come back, Sukage is devastated, and moves into an old palace called Ambi to protect herself from emotional harm and the memories she relives while out in the open among mortals. Many years later, one of the seven Keepers of Ambi, the young women who have looked after the palace for many generations, discovers the shield Hizashi had with him when he departed - but it is cracked. Sukage assumes the worst, and, after discovering she cannot die to be with her husband, allows demons to overcome the world in an attempt to destroy it and everything in it, including herself.

The seventh Keeper of Ambi is able to flee from the palace as darkness consumes it, and she travels far to the village of Arrena, where the heroic Jericho, a famed demon fighter, was born. There's just one problem: Jericho has been dead for four years. Now the burden of saving the world falls to Tanus, Jericho's younger brother, who steals his elder brother's name and tricks the Keeper of Ambi (and everyone else) into believing he is Jericho.

But keeping the secret isn't easy, especially since he's not as good at fighting as his brother was. What will happen if his companion finds out the truth? Where did Hizashi disappear to, and is he really dead? Can he really stop Sukage, a goddess, from destroying the earth she helped create? Can Tanus keep his secret, or will he crack under the pressure of living as his brother's ghost?

Walking on Water
By: J. Elizabeth Dowell

Prologue: Once Upon a Time 

An old woman sits quietly in a rocking chair, gazing out of the window before her. The smooth glass reflects her aged face, wrinkled by many smiles and frowns that have crossed her face in her lifetime.

With her eyes, she sees this reflection, and a lively village full of happy people. She sees horses and carts and stone roads and other houses with windows and rocking chairs just like hers. She sees the night sky studded with stars. But when she closes her eyes, she sees something else.

She gets to her feet slowly, but not painfully, and crosses the small room she is in to the doorway. There are children running up and down the hallway, shouting happily to one another. They are playing child’s games, games about heroes and princesses and magic.

“Bedtime,” the old woman calls. A little boy at her feet looks up at her with a pitiful groan, telling her in his own way that he doesn’t want to go. “You, too,” she adds to him.

“Let’s not,” says a little girl next to him. “We want to play! Besides, you can’t send us to bed without a story.”

“Very well, then,” the woman murmurs. “Story time!”

These words cause the children to stop complaining and rush to her side. She smiles.

“I'm going back to my room. I want all of you to turn down your bedcovers and put on your nightclothes. Then come find me, and I’ll tell you the story.”

The children scramble to follow her orders, all except for the boy at her feet. She picks him up and sets him on his feet.

“Hurry,” she urges.

“Grandmother, I don’t want to go to bed....”

“I promise to tell you a long story, then.”

It isn’t long before the old woman and her grandchildren are settled. She sits in the rocking chair, and they sit in a semicircle around her.

“Tell us the story,” the children beg.

And so the old woman closes her eyes, and everything vanishes. She doesn’t see horses, and the carts, and the stone roads, and the other houses with windows and rocking chairs just like hers. She sees without seeing, and she sees the night sky, studded with stars and sprinkled with stardust. Then they too vanish, and she sees Nothing. And from Nothing, she begins her story.

“Long ago, before the sky or earth existed, there was Nothing. The Nothing was just that: Nothing. An empty void, that continued on for an incomprehensible amount of space and time. It was dark. It was black. The Nothing was lonely, and it was cold.”

Two pinpricks of light appeared in her mind’s eye. They grew steadily closer as she spoke.

“Only two things existed in the Nothing. Two beings, like stars in all that blackness. They didn’t know how they were created, or when, or why. They didn’t even know what they themselves were. But they were the ones that filled the Nothing...and gave life to all that was....”

Chapter One: The Creation

 Long ago, before the sky or earth existed, there was Nothing, but two celestial beings. Hizashi was the God of Power. His eyes shone like the Sun, cutting through the darkness that was, and his strength was unmatched by anything that had ever been or would ever be. His jaw was always set in determination, and he held a sword made of the hottest flames. Sukage was the Goddess of Wisdom. Her eyes were as deep and dark as the night itself, but they shone like stars when she laughed, and she laughed often. She held a shield made of the thickest ice that would never melt. However strong Hizashi was, Sukage was just as swift. Her speed outdistanced Hizashi at every turn.

Hizashi and Sukage had been locked in battle since before the very beginning of time. They knew not why they were fighting, only knew that the desire to conquer the other was overwhelming. Hizashi pursued Sukage through the Nothing. Every time he caught up to her, his face set with resolve, she would slip away from him, and his sword would only glance at her shield. At every place the celestial beings collided, a star was left behind, and unknowingly, they filled the Nothing. It was driven out by the songs of the newborn stars.

Hearing this music, Hizashi and Sukage stopped fighting to pause and listen. The singing of the stars was the most beautiful thing they had ever heard, and for the first time, they agreed with one another: What they had created was good.

Hizashi, ready to resume the battle, lifted his sword of flames and hurtled towards Sukage. Furious at being interrupted while listening to the songs of the stars, Sukage firmly held her place instead of using her speed to escape. She raised her shield of ice with anger, ready to reflect Hizashi’s strength back upon him. The unstoppable force of Hizashi’s sword met with Sukage’s immovable shield, and with a crash that would have deafened mortals, Hizashi’s unstoppable sword was thrown backwards, as was Sukage’s immovable shield, and the Sun was born.

Again, Hizashi and Sukage paused and looked upon what they had created. Hizashi was pleased with the Sun’s power. It burned with a strong flame that reminded him of his own sword. Sukage was pleased with the Sun’s beauty. It shone with the light of the stars that sang such beautiful songs, and reminded her of the glimmer of her shield.

Hizashi raised his sword again, wanting once more to resume the battle they waged. But Sukage was no longer interested in fighting, only creation. She drew closer to the Sun to examine it. The Sun glowed bright and the stars sang beautifully. Sukage loved these things. She gathered a handful of stars and cupped them in her hands, gently shaped them together to form the Moon, which glowed with all the light of the stars shining upon it. Pleased with this new beauty, she laughed with joy, and threw up her handfuls of stardust, letting it sprinkle itself across the universe.

Hizashi was not to be bested. He gathered a handful of the Sun’s fire, and molded it with his strong arms, pressing it together and pulling it apart. He breathed on it to cool the fire into rock, then gathered more fire to add onto it. He created the Earth. Sukage was enthralled with the Earth, and clapped her hands with delight when he was done.

Hizashi, annoyed, raised his sword again, only to find Sukage was nowhere in sight. Thinking she had eluded him again and glad their silly games were over, he looked around to try and locate her. However, she was nowhere nearby, and Hizashi quickly realized the Sukage had taken the form of a woman, and was now walking the Earth he had molded with his own hands.

Hizashi was left with no choice. He sheathed his sword and followed her.

*                              *                              *

Sukage was smiling at the red earth Hizashi had created. The mountains rose far above her head, and the canyons ran deep below her feet. All of it was made of the same red rock, but she found enthralling even so.

Hizashi startled her by walking up behind her and touching her shoulder. She turned, surprised, and they gazed at one another, taking in their new forms.

Hizashi was a strong young male, with skin tanned from the light of the Sun, and hair lightened by it. He had a square jaw and it was set sternly, as always. A smile did not cross his face, but his eyes still shone like the Sun itself, and Sukage could tell he was happy with what he had created. He wore armor of gold, and the light of the Sun shone brightly upon it to make it glow. His sword of fire was sheathed at his side, and the sparks coming from it fell to the red earth and vanished.

Sukage was a lovely young woman. Her eyes were dark and infinite in depth, and her skin was as pale as the Moon she had created. Hizashi noticed a light blush of happiness spread across her face. Her hair matched her eyes in color and tumbled to her waist. She wore a gown of white that reached her ankles, and twinkled like the starry sky. Her shield of ice was slung across her back, and her soft lips inched upwards in a serene smile.

Now that Hizashi and Sukage were humans, they could speak the words that humans could. And so they spoke, for the very first time.

“The time for games is over,” Hizashi said. His voice was deep and strong. “Let us return to our battle!”

Sukage studied him.

“Why?” she asked. Her voice resembled the voices of the stars, sweet and light. Hizashi found to his surprise that he had no answer for this question. He stared at her in wonder. Why? Why not? He didn’t know.

Sukage gave him a sweet smile, and turned away from him to study the mountains, still captivated by their beauty. As she walked away from him, the places she had stepped glowed with a heavenly light, and blades of grass grew up to tickle her ankles.

“Look,” Hizashi said quietly. Sukage turned, and gasped with delight once she saw the green grass. As she watched, the spots of grass began to spread and grow outwards. Sukage smiled at what she had done, and twirled on the spot. Every time her feet touched the red earth, grass began to grow.

“Look at it!” Sukage said. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s fragile, and weak,” Hizashi said. He plucked a blade of grass and crushed it in his hand, then opened his hand, letting it fall.

Sukage glared at him. She snatched the crushed blade of grass from the air before it touched the ground, and walked away to a soft patch of grass. She laid down on it, staring up at the blue sky, bright with light from the Sun. She thought of how the strength of Hizashi’s sword was so important to him, and thought of his grudging respect for her own shield which would not break. She sat up and told Hizashi to watch closely, and she laid the broken blade of grass on the ground and touched it. Flowers sprouted under her fingers and began to spread just like the grass had. She gathered a handful of them, and summoned a gust of wind to blow them up above her head. As they rose in all directions, they left behind a sturdy wooden trunk, and sturdy branches of an old, dead tree. Unhappy with its morose appearance, Sukage touched the bark, and life flowed up into it, bursting out of the branches in the form of leaves and flowers and fruit that fell to the ground. A piece of the fruit landed at Hizashi’s feet.

“That is strong,” Sukage said. “And this is beautiful,” she added, picking up a piece of fruit that had fallen. She put it to her lips and took a bite, and a warm grin of satisfaction spread over her face. She closed her eyes in bliss, and said to Hizashi, “Mmm. Beautiful. You should try some.” She picked up the fruit at Hizashi’s feet and stretched her hand out towards him.

For the first time, Hizashi’s fingers touched hers as he took the fruit from her, and it occurred to him for the first time that being strong might have not been all that mattered after all. He watched as she created a ring of pure white flowers, and then put them in her hair. Maybe there was something to be said for beauty, as well.

As he ate the fruit, Sukage pondered how else she could better this creation. She walked to the edge of a deep canyon and looked down into it, and the thought occurred to her that there might be nothing else she could make. The very idea saddened her to the point of tears, and one tear fell down into the canyon, filling it creating a flowing river, that went out and out until it reached the sea and filled it too. Sukage’s delight was so much that her tears stopped, but the water remained.

“We should do something with all this water,” Sukage murmured. She pointed at it. “Up!” she ordered. The water moved upwards as she moved her finger up, and when she moved her finger in circles, it twisted into heavy clouds. They bumped against on another, making loud thunder. Sukage grinned and covered her ears. Hizashi looked at the clouds and used the light of the Sun that could barely be seen, and he created lightning to go with the thunder, not liking the darkness.

“Down!” Sukage cried to the clouds, her hands still clamped over her ears. It began to rain, and she laughed with joy at the water. The water washed the redness off of the mountains, turning them stone gray. Hizashi frowned at the water. He waved his hand in the air, dissipating the clouds and bringing the Sun into view once more.

“You’re no fun,” Sukage told him. “My storm was powerful, yet you don’t want it.”

“It blocks out the Sun.”

But Hizashi looked upon the mountains and the grass and the rivers and seas and agreed that it was good. He located the Sun in the sky. Sukage looked up to find her Moon that she had created.

“It isn’t fair!” she cried, upon realizing she was unable to locate it. “The Moon can’t shine, for the Sun is shining too brightly for the Moon to be seen!”

Hizashi appeased her. He helped her move their Earth, spinning it around. Being in the tiny forms that they were, it took them many hours before they turned the Earth enough so that the Sun finally set and the Moon was able to shine.

Sukage fell to her knees in exhaustion and Hizashi fell beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder. They were silent, listening to the stars sing as they rested to regain energy.

“It’s lonely,” she said at last.

“Lonely?”

“Running through Nothing, with no one to talk to!”

Hizashi blinked. Then he nodded.

“You’re right. It is a little lonely.”

“I want to stay like this,” she decided, sitting up and pulling away from him. “I want to speak.” She looked around her. “I like what we made. I don’t want to fight anymore, I want to stay here with this!”

Hizashi nodded. “That’s fine.”

“I wasn’t asking for permission,” Sukage said with a smile. She stood up. “I suppose I’ll have to have someone to keep me company,” she said. “I don’t want to be lonely.”

Sukage pointed at one of the stars in the sky.

“Come here,” she ordered, bringing her finger down to point at the grass at her feet. The star fell from the sky, following her finger’s path, and landed at her feet. It was many times her size, and it made a glowing pool of light before her. She knelt next to it and scooped up small part of it in her hands. She shaped it with her long fingers, creating a small feathery creature with a strong beak and strong wings. She held him in her hands when she was done, watching him breathe, and feeling the softness of his feathers.

“He’s weak, too,” Hizashi said.

“Don’t crush him,” Sukage cried, holding him to her chest. “He can do amazing things. Watch.”

“I am watching.”

“Fly!” Sukage told the creature. She released him, and he flew in a wide, swooping circle before coming to land on a branch of the tree she had made..

“Impressive,” Hizashi admitted.

“I'm going to call him Bird,” Sukage said. “If you think you can make a stronger one, then do it.”

Hizashi knelt by the pool of light that was a star, and took out an amount of it to shape with his sturdy hands. His creation took much longer, and Sukage grew impatient waiting for him to finish.

“What is it?” she would ask over and over.

“You will see,” was his only reply.

At last Hizashi finished the creation. It was snow white and stood on four sturdy legs. Its coat was as smooth as silk, but feathered wings jutted out from its front legs. Fine hair grew from its head, giving its mane a heavenly appearance, and its tail was fine and untangled to match. As Sukage stared at it with wonder, it shifted its hooves and let out a pleased whinny.

“I shall call it Horse,” Hizashi said. “But of all the creatures named Horse, this will be the only one with wings. It is very strong.”

“It’s beautiful,” Sukage cried, and rushed up to it to hug it and stroke its soft mane.

“If you admire it so much, then it can be yours,” Hizashi said with a chuckle. The look of joy that spread over her face made his heart soar. A wide grin spread across his face. “Let us mount him, and see what dizzying heights he can reach!”

Hizashi mounted the creature, and pulled Sukage up in front of him, wrapping his arms around her so she would not fall. The creature named Horse began to run, and then it beat its wings and it flew. Wind blew for the first time as it sped past the green fields and mountains Hizashi and Sukage had made together.

“Sukage?” Hizashi shouted, to made himself be heard above the noise.

“Yes?” she answered.

“We can make many Horses and Birds, and whatever else you want. But do not worry about being lonely. I will stay, and I will happily keep you company.”

Sukage smiled.

“Good.”

*                              *                              * 

Hizashi and Sukage made many creatures, and many trees and flowers. They made enough to fill up the Earth Hizashi had made, and then they made creatures like themselves. They called these creatures People, and created them to look like themselves, but made sure each one was different somehow. They enjoyed speaking and talking to one another so much so that they granted People this ability too. But the People could not hear Hizashi and Sukage when they spoke from a long distance, so Sukage gave them long ears to hear better with, and then made her ears and Hizashi’s ears long to match.

Because Hizashi and Sukage were in the forms of People, they could speak like them, walk like them, and enjoy food and drink like them. For hundreds of years they enjoyed their new forms and watched their creation thrive. They all but forgot their days of fighting in the Nothing, and they fell in love like People could. They lived together in many different villages, taking the Person names Adam and Eve and keeping a blanket over the wings of their Horse, so that no one would know they were really the Creators of the Earth. As time passed, the tales of Sukage and Hizashi lived on, but they were more legend than believed truth among the People.

They lived happily for many of thousands of years, traveling Hizashi’s Earth and seeing it all ten times over. They dove to the bottom of the sea, flew to the highest cloud, and explored every inch of the Earth. They stayed in small villages and in grand palaces, performed small miracles and large ones to amaze their People, and lived better than anyone ever had, or ever would. They were very much in love, and never separated from one another.

What upset Hizashi and Sukage was that their People, who could so easily speak and think for themselves, were being influenced by demons. These demons had been what made up the Nothing, and they now gathered at the edges of the universe, watching the world of People with great envy. They called from the edges of the universe, telling the People about all the bad things they should do. Until now their had been no Evil in the Earth. But the demons convinced men and women that they should kill and steal, and taught them to be greedy and uncaring. Clouds of darkness covered the land as soon as the first killing took place. It was the first time People would know Death, but certainly not the last. The dark demons shouted curses from their gathering place, and one by one, all the People became mortals. Soon, Sukage knew, they would all die.

Hizashi and Sukage both found the first one to die as soon as it happened. Sukage wept with great sorrow as she viewed the body of the male who had been killed.

“My child, my child, my precious child,” she whispered, kneeling by the body. Hizashi stood behind her, his head bowed in sorrow, but he shed no tears. The Person had been such a vibrant, healthy male. No one knew who killed him or why. “There can never be another like you,” Sukage said softly. “But you have taught me not to leave everyone else with the same fate. Your soul will live on, my child.”

For seven days and seven nights, Sukage cried. With her tears, she created a kingdom of beauty above incased in only the whitest, purest clouds, invisible to the eyes of mortals. She called this place Paradise, and it was there that she sent the soul of the mortal who died. It was a world that was just like the Earth had been when Hizashi and Sukage first rode their winged Horse to view what they had done. It was pure and new and clean, and more beautiful than the Earth had become. And it would stay that way forever, for nothing could be marred or damaged there.

To make sure the mortals would live on in another way, Sukage traveled to Paradise and asked the one who died, “If you could choose your way of life and death, would you live and die like my Moon, or live and die like my fruit trees?”

The man bowed humbly and replied, “I know not your meaning, m’lady.”

“The Moon is constantly changing,” Sukage said. “It shrinks and dies, but it is soon reborn, to grow and then die again. The fruit tree bears more fruit, leaving behind seeds to make more trees, but once it dies, it cannot come back.”

The man pondered this and said, “I would live as the fruit tree, m’lady. Rather than have my soul be reborn anew, I would choose to remember life as it was, and leave offspring in my memory.”

“You realize your life is now over,” Sukage said. “It is too late for you to have children.”

“I understand, m’lady. But it would be selfish to choose the life of the Moon over the life of the fruit tree only for myself.”

And so Sukage, instead of using the souls of the mortals who had died to create new mortals, let the souls of the mortals who died travel to Paradise, and let the mortals give birth to children. In this way, no one ever really died, because there was a little of each of their ancestors in every newborn baby.

Because People were able to have children, Sukage and Hizashi were able to have children together too. Sukage gave birth to Hizashi’s seven children, one right after another, and taught each one of them one of the purest virtues known to People: Humility, Abstinence, Diligence, Patience, Kindness, Liberality, and Chastity. When they grew old enough, she allowed them to explore the world on their own, and told them to teach the virtues they had learned from her to every mortal they met, and to sing songs of purity to drown out the cries of the demons.

Countless more years passed. Sukage saw less and less of her beloved children, and the mortals began warring with each other. Every few centuries, a disease would wipe parts of their population. Paradise never got crowded because there was no definite shape or volume, but it saddened Sukage more than her heart could bear to see so many of her creations dying needlessly. She thought perhaps the only one keeping her from succumbing to the anguishing cries of demons herself was Hizashi. She loved him with all of her heart, and though the thing they had created together had been marred and blood-soaked, she still flew on their winged Horse to Paradise with him every once in awhile, to remember what their Earth had been before People had been mortal and before the shrieking cries of demons reached their ears.

But Hizashi, always staying true to his title of being the God of Power, was not one to sit idly by while the cries of demons marred his Earth. He withstood it for as long as he could bear, if only for his precious Sukage, but after the demons began making their way towards Earth and hiding in shadows and nightmares, he himself was left with no choice. He gathered Sukage and his children, and told them of his despair.

“Sukage, and my children...for far too long the mortals have been influenced by the envious demons that are gathered at the edges of our universe. Now these demons have invaded our Earth. They lurk in the nightmares of mortal children and hide in the shadows of withering trees. This cannot go on.” Hizashi unsheathed his sword of flames. “I take it upon myself to leave and fight the demons, first in our world, and then beyond our world.”

“No!” Sukage cried. “No, you can’t leave. Please. Fight the ones here, but don’t leave.”

“I must leave, Sukage. The demons are destroying innocent lives, and the Earth we loved so dearly. Do you see what Earth has become? Don’t you remember the Earth when it was first created?”

“I remember.”

“I will leave immediately—”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Sukage said at once. But Hizashi held up a hand to stop her.

“You who have always loved this form should stay here as one of these People, to watch over them and ensure disaster does not strike. You must watch over our children who preach goodness and purity.”

“I don’t care what happens to the world or what form I am in!” Sukage said, embracing Hizashi and weeping bitterly into the chest plate of his armor. “I cannot be separated from you! I’ve known you since before I could remember! You’ve always been there! I cannot....”

“My precious Sukage,” Hizashi said, stroking her hair. “If there was another path, I would take it. But for now wish me well, and I will to my best to return shortly.”

“Will you need the winged Horse?” Sukage asked softly, knowing she could not persuade him to stay.

“No. I can travel without him.”

“Then take this.” Sukage took her shield of ice and put it on his back. “So that no demon may ever strike you down, my Hizashi.”

“Thank you, my Sukage.” Hizashi kissed her, and he told her he loved her, and then he walked away. Sukage fell to her knees in despair, and was surrounded by her children at once. The last she saw of Hizashi before his form vanished over the horizon was the light of their Sun shining off of his armor.

She would remember that light forever.

*                              *                              *

It was many of thousands of years before Sukage heard anything about Hizashi.

The demons had not left Earth, and she always feared an awful fate had befallen her love. Whenever a demon slithered up to her and spoke to her, she would send it away as soon as she heard it knew nothing of her Hizashi. Eventually Sukage’s despair grew so much that she had to take a permanent residence, in a grand palace called Ambi, built only for the wealthiest of royalty, buried deep in the forest and surrounded by groves of fruit trees. Each of her seven children, before vanishing off into the world to sing pure songs once more, married a mortal and had one daughter, and these daughters grew up to be the seven ladies of Sukage’s court, known as the Keepers of Ambi. Each of the seven of them also married and had one daughter, and for generations, the cycle continued. Each Keeper was only able to produce one female child, and that child grew also to look after Sukage in her times of despair.

They knew her only as an eccentric but beautiful widow called Eve, but on her good days she was a joy to be around, and they were fiercely loyal to her and each other, and to show that they were her protectors and caretakers, they each wore a crown of flowers in their hair to match Sukage herself. They never told the secret of her immortality, and kept the Palace of Ambi hidden from most mortals, keeping Sukage away from those who would cause her emotional harm. In turn, Sukage blessed them, with loving families and good fortunes, and used her own powers to ensure that they rarely had to garden or clean. Her Keepers did not know they carried the blood of a goddess in their veins, but Sukage did, and because of that, she saw to it with the best of her ability that they led good, happy lives, and died peacefully in their sleep only after becoming very, very old.

Many of the Keepers of Ambi wondered at their good fortunes, and the fortunes of their children and ancestors, and many more saw her shows of magic where she would make flowers grow from the ground or summon a warm shower of rain. Nearly all them had ridden on her winged Horse. They all suspected Sukage was something otherworldly, even if they did not what exactly she was, and they showed her the deepest respect and loyalty anyone could ask for.

For a time, it was enough. Sukage adored her “keepers” and she loved them with the same depth of their loyalty for her. She enjoyed making them happy and enjoyed using her abilities as a goddess to make life perfect for them. But they were only mortals, and they would eventually die. Sukage mourned the death of every one of them, but celebrated each new birth. She would often ride her winged Horse to Paradise to visit those who had died, and came back with a smile.

But losing friend after friend along with not hearing a word from Hizashi soon took its toll on her heart. Over time, as the years crawled by, Sukage smiled less. She stopped laughing and making things grow. Her rainstorms became cold and bitter, accompanied by a thunder (never lightning) and a chilly wind. The crown of flowers in her hair wilted, and she locked them away in a box of ivory and never spoke of them again.

Sukage’s bright eyes diminished to glowing embers, and her dark hair showed streaks of gray. The Keepers of Ambi wondered if she might be aging at last, but when one dared to ask her, Sukage told her no, and replied that she simply missed her husband and that her physical form was growing to match what she felt inside.

“I'm not really a widow, you see,” she said dully, staring out the window into the gray wall of rain. “My husband left a long, long time ago to fight evil, and he hasn’t returned. ” 

“I'm sorry, m’lady Eve,” the girl replied quietly. “Ah, but I hate to see you so sad.”

“It cannot be helped. If I was a mortal...if he had died...then at last I could wait for death to claim me and take me to him. But I am not mortal...and I must live the rest of forever without the one I love most by my side....”

“Perhaps...perhaps we could sent out someone to look for him...?”

Sukage turned away from the window. “I...I’d like that,” she said softly. Then she dissolved into tears. Before in the Nothing, she had always ran from Hizashi. If only she could see him now...she would never run from him again.

The young maiden who had spoke to her bowed and backed out of the room.

The next day, six of the seven Keepers of Ambi left the palace to search the world for the one their lady called Adam. They searched deep in the bogs and swamps, upon the surface of the mountains, in the hottest of the deserts and plains, and even sailed the seven seas Sukage herself had cried. But when they returned, years later, they could not offer one word of comfort to Sukage.

Sukage looked older than ever to them now. Her physical appearance had not changed from the pitiful, aging woman it had been, but her eyes were so much duller, and her voice so much more tired. She spent much of her time holed up in the tallest tower of the Palace of Ambi with her winged Horse, but she never visited Paradise. She simply sat near the creature and stared out at the heavy rain and gray clouds surrounding her once beautiful palace.

Thus the search continued. At any given time, six of the Keepers of Ambi were out scouring the world for someone who could not be found. Sukage, too anguished with grief to even grow a flower, could no longer ensure them the perfect lives she wanted to give them. Some died violent deaths, and this only weighed more on her conscience. But her despair was so great that she could do nothing to stop it. Each generation of women insisted on looking for her love to make things right again, and she let them, unable to summon the will to argue.

“My Hizashi,” Sukage would whisper over and over, staring out the window. “You said you would do your best to be back quickly...yet how long have you been gone...?”

She sat in her stupor for centuries, refusing to eat or move. Life went on and passed her by, and without her protection, more demons began to enter the Earth, and the mortals had to take it upon themselves to fight the demons.

One such mortal, called Jericho, was celebrated by many for holding a sword that could and did kill demons. Jericho was a brave warrior who fought many demons, and sent as many as he could back into the edges of the universe. One of the most fearsome demons he ever encountered was a dragon with eight heads, with a shield made of the toughest ice. But the shield was cracked, so Jericho was able to penetrate the defenses of the dragon and slay it.

He traveled to the Palace of Ambi, hearing of the eternal rain there and thinking that a demon might have been causing it. But when he reached the palace after his long walk, he found no demons. In fact, he could see no one at all. Feeling he was in a place where he was not supposed to be, and feeling waves of despair wash over him from the tallest tower, he put the shield down as an offering and left.

The palace was so big that the one Keeper of Ambi there did not discover the shield of ice for several years. When she did, she rushed it up to Sukage’s chambers at once, having been told many times that if a sword of flame or shield of ice should ever catch her eye, Sukage must know of it immediately.

Sukage’s eyes slid over to the door as it opened, and she watched the face of the young girl with curiosity.

“What have you there?” she asked her, her voice quiet from long periods of disuse.

“A shield of ice, m’lady,” said the Keeper of Ambi, bowing.

Sukage looked as though she could hardly believe it. Her eyes focused on the shield and she slowly walked over to it, tears forming in her eyes.

“It...this was mine...many ages ago...I gave it...to my husband...Kirei, where did you get this?”

“I found it, m’lady, resting by the front door,” replied the girl called Kirei. “It was the first time I’ve been to the door in a long time...I don’t know long it’s laid there...there was a note next to it signed by a young man named Jericho. I’ve heard of him, he fights demons...the note said it was the only thing left after he killed an eight-headed dragon.”

“A demon?” gasped Sukage. “And look...oh, no...it’s cracked...you don’t think my husband is dead?”

Kirei had no idea what to say to Sukage. She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t...I don’t know....”

“Nothing can break this shield,” Sukage said, voice shaking. She began to weep. “Whatever broke this shield most certainly struck down my husband as well...but it matters not...now I can finally join him.”

“Eve?” Kirei asked, stunned.

“My sweet child...if Death has truly claimed my husband, then I can let Death have me too, and we can be together again.”

“But, m’lady—”

It was too late for reason. Sukage had rushed downstairs. She found an ornamental dagger on the wall, and drove it into her stomach. Blood seeped from the wound, but it healed as soon as she pulled out the dagger.

“M’lady!” Kirei called, running down after her. “Eve, what are you doing?”

But Sukage was too horrified to hear her. Did this mean she could not die?

Over the next week, Sukage tried every way of death she knew. He tried to drown herself, jump out of the window of her highest tower, stab herself, poison herself, and she even went into a village to break the laws and get burned at stake. But no matter what she did, Death would not take her. She had not flown her horse in such a long time that it had forgotten how, and so Paradise, still visible to her eyes, and still the place where she believed Hizashi to be, was out of her reach.

“It isn’t fair,” she whispered to her attendant after coming back from attempting to crush herself in an avalanche. “All I want is to be with him...but it seems only a demon could kill me.”

Her attendant was very frightened by this time, and had no reply. All she could do was watch as Sukage tilted her head back, and cried out for her children.

Children? Kirei thought, confused.

Almost at once her question was answered. The palace began to rumble, and Kirei fell to her knees, unable to keep her balance. She looked up with wide eyes as seven white figures, glowing with the light of pure virtues, appeared by Sukage’s side.

Sukage looked at each of them in turn. Her four boys and three girls, all shining with the pure light she had bestowed upon them. They would never die either, for they were gods and goddesses just as much as she was.

And yet...at this moment, she hated their light. And as their mother, she had every right to take it away.

“Forget what I have taught you,” she uttered. Her eyes were empty and blank, but her lips were curved in a humorless smile. “Go and end this world. And end me with it.”

The white light began to seep out of the figures and face into nothing, replaced by hungry shadows ready to consume everything in their path.

Sukage laughed tonelessly.

“Yes...feel what I am feeling now. Don’t forget the emptiness. The Nothing that we filled together...now it’s inside of me, and you, too.” Sukage’s words were no longer blank and empty, but colored with anger and sadness. “So go,” she continued. “Consume this Earth...and everyone on it.” The shadows grew darker, already consuming the light around them. The floors and walls of the palace were turning black. Sukage’s smile widened into a twisted grin.

“We can all go to Paradise.”

Six of the Keepers of Ambi had left to search for their lady’s lost love. The seventh Keeper of Ambi mounted the winged Horse that no longer flew, and held on for dear life as the horse raced away, not looking back once at the Hell the Palace of Ambi had just become.

Chapter Two: Brotherly Love

Blue-gray eyes scanned the area. A quick check to make sure no one was looking, and then he crawled up into the branches of the tree before him. A cool breeze slid through his hair, ruffling the leaves around him, and getting his bangs in his eyes, but he didn’t mind. He settled down in the branches to nap, putting his belongings next to him securely. This was his favorite napping tree. He could lie here like this for hours...his eyelids dropped as he listened to the birds sing. What a perfect afternoon to catch a few minutes of peaceful sleep....

“Tanus!”

His eyes snapped open, but he didn’t move. Hadn’t he just climbed up here? He glanced at the sun, checking the time. Almost sunset...apparently not.

“Tanus! Get out of whatever tree you’re hiding in! Your mother wants you!”

The young man named Tanus groaned and jumped out of the tree branches, landing ungracefully on his feet and just barely managing to stay upright. He grabbed his sword and shield that had fallen near him, slinging them onto his back, and walked towards the voice that had woken him from his slumber.

“What do you want, Aunt Ruby?”

A middle aged woman in an apron stood with her arms folded, giving Tanus a look that said quite clearly that she wasn’t pleased. Her sharp blue eyes looked her nephew over as he approached. His blue-gray eyes were still clouded with sleep, and his normally straight hair, a light, sun kissed blonde, was mussed up, with a twig stuck in the tangle near his ear. She sighed.

“Tanus, you’re a mess. Are you really going to go down to the stream like that...?”

“The stream?” Tanus asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Yes...your mother would like you to get some water for her.”

“Oh,” Tanus said. “Sure, of course.”

“You shouldn’t nap so much,” his aunt complained. She brushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear and regarded Tanus sternly. “You’ve got your family to spend time with and look after! And I'm busy helping with dinner...I don’t have time to chase you down all the time, you know.”

“Yes ma’am,” Tanus said with a chuckle. He was used to his aunt’s lecturing, and he was able to tune her out as they walked back to his home. There was a nice, worn path through the woods back to Arrena Village. The trees were just as thick there as they were in the woods surrounding the village, but that was the way Tanus liked it. He knew every inch of the woods thoroughly...each tree and rock was his own personal friend.

“Really, Tanus,” his aunt continued. “You spend all your time out here laying with swords and then taking naps. You need to get your head out of the clouds.”

“Nah. I'm getting good at using the sword. It just makes me tired, that’s all.”

“Well,” Ruby said, shaking her head, “I think you ought to try staying home and helping out your family. You could get yourself hurt playing with that thing!”

“I'm going to be more careful than that,” Tanus growled. She had struck a nerve, and he began walking ahead of her, trying to get away.

“See to it that you are. No going off fighting demons for you...you’re better off helping us out here.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t listening. He was speeding up, trying to walk ahead of her and get out of earshot. He knew what she would say next, and he didn’t want to hear it—

“There’s no point in trying to become a warrior so you can be like your brother, Tanus,” Ruby said, her gaze softening. Tanus stopped in his tracks, his back to her. “In the end it won’t lead to anything good. If you really want to be like Jericho, you should stay with your family. He was always happy to help around the house, you know.”

Tanus swallowed.

“I’ll work on it,” he said. Before she could reply, he broke into a run and headed back to his village, leaving her behind.

It doesn’t matter what he’d be doing now anyway, he thought angrily, the rhythm of his footsteps matching the pounding of his heart. His hands were clenched into fists. He’s not coming back. I get that. I just wish everyone else would realize it, too.

*                              *                              *

Tanus reached a hilltop and paused to catch his breath. He knew his aunt would be on the way soon, so, to escape her for the moment, he climbed the tallest tree and looked down on his village. On his home.

Arrena was a small village, with the homes of its residents nestled safely in the forested Arrena Valley, between two colossal mountains. It couldn’t have had any more than a hundred people living there, but it was still thriving with the activities of the people who called it home. A river, flowing into the seaside to the east, ran into pass between the mountains, and one offshoot of it wound its way right next to the small village, providing water. There were plenty of nuts and fruits to be collected, and even more places to hunt with a plentiful supply, and the people of Arrena lived on it happily, never taking more than they needed, thus making certain that there would always be more for later.

Paths worn down from many generations of running, playing children connected one house to another. From where Tanus was sitting they looked like a giant spider web, but it was a lot harder to see the houses when you were down in the woods, unless you were a resident. Everyone who lived in Arrena knew the area well, and rarely did anyone get lost. There were subtle differences, small markings, that the untrained eye would miss, but not the residents of the village.

Tanus had lived in this small village for all of his life. He had been born here, and he was raised here. He had waded and fished in Arrena Stream when he was young, and had taught his younger brother to do it when he got older. He had used the clearings in Arrena Forest to train with his sword to become a warrior. He knew each and every knothole of each and every tree better than he knew himself. He could recognize the track of every animal that lived in the forest, and some that didn’t. He could recognize the call of every bird that graced the branches of the trees and skies. He knew of every berry, nut, herb, fruit, and mushroom to eat, and knew of all the of the ones not to eat.

Tanus lived in a small four room house, built sturdily to protect itself against the battering effects of nature, but out of materials that the earth could absorb if it was ever abandoned, like wood and rocks. There was one main room, which served as their kitchen and living room, with doors in it leading to closets and the bedrooms. There were three bedrooms.

One was for his mother, a sweet, soft-spoken woman by the name of Ashi. She, like her sons, had light blonde hair, that was usually up in a bun (though strands of hair were always escaping her hair clip), and blue-gray eyes. But where Tanus’s jaw and nose were prominent, her features were soft and gentle. Ashi looked young, mostly because of her slender figure, even though she had been through the hardships of being abandoned by her husband and losing her firstborn child. But there was a soft sadness in her gentle voice, and a lingering look of worry in her eyes. Tanus noticed it every time he talked with her. She had not recovered from the death of her child. Tanus doubted she ever would.

The second bedroom was one that Tanus himself shared with his younger brother, Remus. Remus could be a cute kid when he wanted to be—but the problem was that he normally didn’t want to be. It was Remus who Tanus was now teaching to hunt and spar and fish, and it was with Remus that Tanus did most of his bickering. Remus was always full of energy, and although he seemed to have a knack for saying just the thing that Tanus didn’t want him to say, he would gladly make up for it by playing tag or by racing. He looked a lot like Tanus, but his eyes were a brighter blue than anyone else in their family. They sparkled with a brightness that Ashi and Tanus had lost. And that was because Ashi and Tanus remembered the occupant of the third bedroom. Remus could barely even picture his face.

The third bedroom lay empty and quiet, filled with nothing but still air, and the memories of ghosts. This room had once belonged to Tanus’s older brother, Jericho. But Jericho had died in an accident four years ago, and ever since the room had been shut up forever, collecting dust. It might have made more sense to move Tanus or his brother into that room, but no one in their family could even bear glancing at the door, much less going in. So it had been locked, and the key had been put away in a box in the bottom of Ashi’s closet, and it wasn’t spoken of again.

Jericho had taught Tanus everything he knew. Their father had left without returning once Remus was born, and so Jericho had always taken it upon himself to be the man of the family. He taught Tanus to fish and hunt and spar, taught him how to cross his eyes and count and even read. Jericho had always seemed so...well, he had never met anyone who didn’t respect him, if not love him. He was kind to everyone. He was selfless, and brave, and strong. He was—

—dead, Tanus reminded himself again, fiercely. Dead, dead, dead. Stop living in the past.

The thought was depressing. To cheer himself up, he looked around at the bird’s eye view of everything he knew—but his eyes were constantly moving, because everywhere he looked he spotted what he didn’t want to see.

He’s everywhere again today.

It happened sometimes, when he thought about it too much (or if his aunt annoyed him too much). He’d see his older brother as if he was really there, leaning against the tree Tanus was in, looking up with a smile...practicing with his sword in the clearing nearby...running from his house down to the river, laughing as he felt the wind go past him....

Right after he had died, Tanus had seen him all the time, and for a long time he had been convinced that Jericho was somehow alive, and he’d upset his family greatly by speaking his thoughts aloud. But he’d quickly realized that what he was seeing was a memory...faded, growing dimmer each second until it too, was dead for good, just like his brother was.

Jericho had climbed this tree with him before. Tanus closed his eyes and saw his brother’s grin as he looked down on the village.

“I feel so free when I'm up above everything, Tanus. Isn’t it terrific?”

Tanus couldn’t bear it. The ghosts were too much for him. Scowling, he jumped down from the tree and began to walk home, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

Not anymore, it isn’t.

*                              *                              *

Tanus burst in the front door of his small house in the village. His mother was standing on the right side of the front room by the stove, cooking what smelled like chicken. Tanus felt his mouth water as the aroma of dinner hit him.

“What are you cooking?” Tanus asked, delighted. He walked over to the stove to investigate. “It smells wonderful.”

“I'm aware of that,” his mother said, with a chuckle. “But you need to go to the stream and fill our bucket. We’re out of water. Do a good job and I’ll give you extras when you get back.” She winked.

“None now?”

“Nope, you wait until it’s all finished. We need water!”

“I know, I know,” Tanus said, rolling his eyes with his back to Ashi. “Aunt Ruby came and found me.” He took off his sword and shield and propped them by the doorframe.

“Again?” Ashi asked. “Were you napping?”

“Yes,” Tanus admitted with a smile.

“Got a lecture, huh?”

“You better believe it.”

Tanus dove into the closet by the front door and got the giant bucket they carried water in, and then vanished out the front door to go the stream and fill it. It was a quick walk, and he felt slightly annoyed at having been called out of the woods, his playground, to do such a menial task. His aunt could have gotten the water herself three times in the amount of time it took to get him to do it! But he loved his mother, despite anything his aunt might have said about him not caring about his family, and if she wanted him to get water, he would.

“Not helpful, huh?” he murmured to himself. “Maybe.” He reached the stream and dipped the bucket in, admiring the sunset. He was so busy looking at the sky as he pulled the bucket out of the water that he lost his balance and spilled it. The majority of the cold stream water landed on the legs of his pants. But instead of getting frustrated, he laughed at himself. He looked to his left, hearing a twig snap, and saw a curious jackrabbit watching his clumsiness.

“My head really is in the clouds!” Tanus told the rabbit, grinning. The sound of his voice startled it, and it hopped away into the undergrowth.

Tanus scrambled to his feet and grabbed a stick from the ground, the swung it around him in a graceful arc. “But you can’t catch me off guard,” he warned the rabbit, though it was long gone. “I'm going to be the best swordsman in all the world...and then we’ll see who gets the last laugh.” He struck a pose and laughed again, then tossed the stick behind him and refilled his bucket. His clothes dried in the warm night air as he walked back home, and he collapsed into the chair he always sat in for dinner, tired from carrying the heavy water so far.

Dinner was ready soon, and he sat with his mother, his aunt, Remus to eat what had indeed been chicken. His mother always bowed her head and gave thanks to the gods before eating, and so Tanus did the same, but only out of respect for her. He hadn’t believed in the gods since the accident four years ago.

There were four places at the small table, and Ruby, who ate meals with them more often than not, sat on the corner between Remus and Tanus. It might have made more sense to have Ruby fill Jericho’s old spot, but the chair was left empty. It had been empty for four years.

Dinner was eaten silently, as it usually was (until Remus started a conversation). Tanus was still seeing Jericho—stuffing his face at the place across from him. He blinked and the image faded. He glanced at his mother. She was eating quietly, as was Ruby next to her. It was Remus who decided he couldn’t take the quiet and spoke.

“Tanus, did you go fishing today?”

“Nope,” replied Tanus, shaking his head. “Busy practicing.”

“That’s right,” Ruby said. “Ashi, he would have stayed gone all day if I hadn’t gone to fetch him!”

“If he enjoys it, then there’s not a problem,” Ashi said. She smiled at Tanus. “But you still have to fetch us water once in awhile.”

“Nah,” Tanus said, mouth full of chicken. “I think I'm gonna run away.”

“Again?” Ruby asked. Her eyebrows knitted into a frown.

“Yup.”

“That’s fine,” Ashi told him, “but don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Tanus swallowed. “Sorry.”

“How long you gonna be gone this time?” Remus asked his brother.

“I'm not coming back,” Tanus said.

“Yeah, that’s what you told us last time, too. And the time before that, and the time before that....”

“And the time before that,” Ruby added, eyes twinkling.

“Quiet,” Tanus told his brother, feeling anger build up inside of him. They weren’t taking him seriously! “I mean it this time!”

“You do not!”

“Yes I do!”

“Stop it!” Ruby’s order put an end to the quarrel, but only for a moment. Remus whispered a last, “Do not,” and kicked his brother under the table, and Tanus, temper snapping, jumped up from his chair and walked to his room, slamming the door behind him.

It was quiet at the table. But in the end, it wasn’t Ruby or Remus that got up to go after Tanus, but his mother.

“Ashi, don’t,” Ruby pleaded. “He’s putting on dramatics. Running away? He runs away all the time. It’s silly to cater to him. Tanus is sixteen. He needs to grow up!”

“Yeah,” Ashi said, smiling a little, “But maybe he also needs someone to talk to.” With that said, Ashi abandoned her meal, too, and let herself into her son’s room.

He was lying on his bed facing away from the door, hugging his pillow.

Ashi closed the door and went to sit down on Tanus’s bed next to him. It was the bed closets to the door, but not nearest the drawers that held his and Remus’s clothing. The room was dark, for Tanus had closed the shutters and the curtains were pulled over them, but had it been lighter, the cheerful mess that Tanus and Remus kept feeding would have been much more obvious. Ashi was forever telling her sons to clean their room, but for some reason they never did get around to it.

“Hey,” Ashi greeted softly.

“Hi,” Tanus muttered.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah.” He rolled onto his back. “I hate people laughing at me. And Remus just annoys me sometimes, that’s all.”

“Hey, it’s what brothers do best,” Ashi said with a smile, coming to sit next to her son on the bed. “He loves you, you know. He just doesn’t want you to go away.”

Tanus heard the unspoken end of her sentence. Like Jericho did.

“Well, he’s doing a great job showing it,” Tanus muttered.

“He’s seven,” Ashi pointed out. “He’s still got a lot to learn. When you were seven Jericho was still teaching you how to button your own shirt. Just give him some time, and he’ll turn out to be a real good kid...just like you.”

“I guess,” Tanus said. He was a little let down that his mother still considered him a child, but he knew in his heart of hearts she could never really consider him anything else...no matter how old he grew to be.

“When he gets older,” Ashi said, “I’ll help you embarrass him with baby stories in front of his friends. You’ll have lots to tell them about.”

That made Tanus laugh. “Yeah...yeah, that’s true.” He was quiet a minute, and then said, “Thanks, Mama.” He knew his mother had left her dinner just to come and cheer him up.

“No problem.” Ashi ruffled his hair and winked at him. “Coming back to dinner?”

“Nah...I’ll eat a big breakfast before I leave tomorrow. I’ll just sleep now...I think if I see Remus again I’ll have to pick a fight.”

Ashi chuckled. “Okay, honey. Sleep well.”

“I will. Good night,” Tanus added.

Ashi kissed his forehead. “Night, sweetheart. I love you, Tanus.”

She smiled at him again and exited his room, shutting the door and leaving him in darkness. He buried his face in his pillow and tried not to think of his brother.

True to his word, Tanus ate a big breakfast the next morning. He ate enough so that he was very full, but not too full to move, or so full that his stomach hurt. Thankfully, his aunt was at her own home, so all he had to deal with during his meal were the taunts of his younger brother. It took a little doing, but Tanus managed to ignore him.

After breakfast it was time to pack. While Remus was still eating, Tanus grabbed his pack that he often traveled with. It was a large sack made of brown cloth. The cloth was scratchy and rough, but very durable. Tanus had actually taken up sewing (for a very brief time) long enough to line the inside with a layer of thick leather, which not only made it less painful to reach into the bag, but helped to keep out moisture. He had also attached straps to the outside, so that he could wear it on his shoulder easily, instead of having to carry it in his hand.  

Tanus put all his money, his lucky gold coin, his flint stone for lighting fires, some strong line for fishing, and his bow, along with some arrows and his carving knife, into the bag. Then he went back to the table, where the rest of breakfast was getting cold, and scooped up everything Remus hadn’t eaten into a smaller cloth bag, and put that in his pack for later. Then he slung the pack over one shoulder.

Next he grabbed his sword and shield from their place by the doorframe, where he had propped them the previous night. Tanus put the shield onto his back and put he sword in its sheath behind his shield. Feeling uncomfortable, he adjusted his bag so that it hung on op of the shield, and not between his shield and his back.   

Now he had everything he needed. He was ready.

“I'm going,” Tanus told Remus. His younger brother grinned at him.  

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow when you get back!”

“You will not.” Tanus ruffled Remus’s hair, something he knew the younger one hated.  

“Cut that out!”

“Who’s gonna make me?” Tanus taunted with a grin. “You?” 

“Just go already,” Remus huffed.

“I am, I am.” He walked backwards out the front door. “See you later, Remus.” 

He turned around and laid eyes on his mother, who was watering the vegetables in her garden. It wasn’t a small garden for just food like most kept by their front door—this garden wrapped all the way around the house and then spread out for several feet, holding every kind of vegetable and flower that could be grown in Arrena’s soil. It was because of this thick garden that his mother so often needed Tanus to fetch her more water.

Tanus felt a sudden flash of guilt at leaving his mother, but he knew deep down that despite his quarrels with Remus and his aunt, he would be back. He had never been able to stay away from home for long. Sure, he could survive out in the woods, and easily—but he always came back. He knew it, and his mother knew it. But he appreciated it so much, that she was the only one who pretended to believe he would really stay gone, every time. 

“Hi,” Ashi said, turning towards him. “The potatoes will be grown soon.”

“I can tell,” Tanus said with a smile. “I hope you have fun pulling them up.” 

Ashi’s eyes twinkled. “But that’s such a fun job. You didn’t want to do it?”

Tanus made a face. “No way! Anyway, I'm leaving now...I wanted to tell you goodbye.” 

Ashi looked him up and down, her hands on his shoulder. Tanus knew what she was thinking before she even said it—You’re growing up. You look so much like your brother did when he was sixteen.

But she didn’t say it, because she knew he didn’t want her to. He was grateful, and gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Bye, Mom,” he said softly.

“Have fun, honey,” his mother replied. Her hands dropped from his shoulders. She would never tell him goodbye, but always worded her farewells carefully enough so that they didn’t sound as though she thought Tanus was coming back. She always humored him, and he couldn’t tell her how much it meant to him that she did. 

Tanus smiled at her and began walking towards the woods. He waved over his shoulder as the shadows of the trees enveloped him. Here was where he belonged. Away from his aunt and her lectures, away from Remus and his taunting. Away from Jericho, and all the memories he’d left behind. Now that he was in the shadows of the trees of the forest, he felt complete. There was nothing to worry about, now.

Not until he had to go back.

*                              *                              * 

A long time ago, when Tanus was very young, he and Jericho had decided to find a place where they could hide, and no one could find them. They began searching for a spot in the Arrena Forest that no one else would find. This was a virtually impossible task, but it didn’t deter them from trying. They searched through all the trees and behind every rock, turning up nothing. Every place they found, another villager could find just as easily.

But one day, while walking around the thickest grove of trees in the forest (a place normal villagers didn’t venture because of the difficulty in walking through such a crowded area), they happened upon half a wall covered in ivy. It was part of a building, that had crumbled long ago—the fact that any of it was still standing made it very strange, as the inhabitants of Arrena always constructed their buildings so that the earth could absorb them easily should they ever be abandoned. After poking around a bit, they realized the building, or what was left of it, was made of stone. The pair had been intent on exploring every inch of this structure, but the truth was, there wasn’t much to see. The four walls were close together, and one of them had crumbled into pieces, falling to the ground entirely. There was no roof, save for the very thick nest of branches above, only one of the walls had a window (which was now curtained by a thick layer of vines), and all of the stone had been covered with grass and ivy, leaving barely any stone to be seen.

It had been the perfect place. For the next few years of their lives, Jericho and Tanus had been the kings of hide-and-go-seek and other childhood games. None of the other children or adults were ever allowed to know about the hiding spot. After Tanus and Jericho grew older, they forgot about it, and left it to itself to keep growing. But after Jericho died, when Tanus first began running away, he knew exactly where to go.

Tanus fixed it up in no time. He threw several blankets up in the trees to block out the rain and sunlight, and brought in supplies—a lantern and some oil, a bucket to carry water in, and blankets and pillows to sleep on. To store these supplies, he dug a wide but shallow hole in the ground, and covered it with branches woven together. This was to keep out animals while he was away from his hiding spot. The stream wasn’t far off and there were plenty of good climbing trees nearby. To Tanus, it was the most perfect place in the world.

It was to this hiding place that Tanus journeyed to after his big breakfast. For a little while, he drew his sword practiced his technique in the clearing inside what was left of the building, fighting invisible foes. He remembered his sparring sessions with Jericho, and he trained himself even harder, using physical exertion to force the memories out of his brain. It did the trick—twenty minutes later he was panting from his own heavy workout.

Tanus flopped onto his back.

“Did you ever do this alone?” he whispered. “Or did you always have someone to practice with?”

Tanus stared up at his makeshift ceiling. The blankets had holes in them now, and they were worn thin, but he hadn’t brought in new ones to replace them. The wind blew and the branches moved aside, letting sunlight touch his face for a brief instant. He closed his eyes.

A rustling from the bushes nearby startled him out of his musings. Nonplussed, Tanus got to his feet. Probably an animal.

“Come out, whoever you are,” he shouted, picking up his sword. He kicked at the underbrush to make some noise. “I'm armed.”

Dead silence.

An animal would have run at my voice, Tanus thought. He came out of his hiding place, getting closer to where he’d heard the noise. He made a little more racket and shouted some more, but there was no other movement. Well, if it wasn't an animal....

...it had to be a person.

“I'm serious, Remus,” Tanus said, getting annoyed, sure now that his brother had followed him. “Get out here.”

Still nothing. Remus would have done something by now. Jumped out and tried to scare him, or ran away. Tanus started cautiously forward.

“You’re not Remus, are you?” he murmured.

Was it a bandit? They often tried to sneak into the village only to get hopelessly lost later. As he edged closer to the spot where he’d heard movement, he caught it again—someone shifted nervously backwards. That was their first mistake. When hiding in the woods, the best thing to do was to keep quiet, and any movement always made noise.

Tanus pulled back a tree branch blocking his view. “Come on out,” he said slowly. “I'm not looking for a fight.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, but this wasn’t it. It was a young female, looking as out of place as he had ever seen one. Black hair cascaded down to her waist, and dark eyes stared up at him, wide with fear. Her skin, pale and soft, was flawless. Tanus took in her clothing at once—it was made of silk, covered in decorative nonessentials, like beads and fancy stitching, and the garments reached down to her feet. She was obviously some kind of nobility, not used to woods like this, and Tanus could tell with just one look at her that she, like many people before her, had gotten very, very turned around and confused.

“I...I don’t want to fight with you, either,” she said softly. “I'm lost.”

“I believe you,” Tanus said, inclining his head in a nod. “You wouldn’t be the first one. Our village has never been too fond of intruders.”

“I'm not an intruder!” she said, looking alarmed. “I'm—well, I suppose I am, but I don’t mean any harm—I came here looking for help!” She paused to draw breath. “My name is Kirei Emmalyn Mideya.” She bowed her head and actually curtsied. Tanus stared at her. What was he supposed to do, kiss her hand or something? She stared back, waiting for some kind of response.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Tanus said at last, on unsure footing.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” Kirei asked him, still in her curtsy. “What’s your name?”

“I think your is long enough for the both of us, Miss Mideya,” Tanus said, a little taken aback. “Around here we just shake hands and say hi, names be damned.”

Kirei straightened up. “You know, you’re being really rude.”

“No, I'm being cautious,” Tanus said, brow knitted into a frown. He wasn’t sure if he meant what he was saying or saying it to see her reaction. “Bandits come in all shapes and sizes. I’ve got to do my part to protect my village.”

“I'm not going to hurt your village!” Kirei said indignantly.

“That’s what any bandit would say,” Tanus said, raising his eyebrows. A slow grin spread across his face. He was having fun teasing her, even if she was nobility. “Hey, even worse, you could be a demon in human form. How do I know you’re not out to hurt me?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Kirei huffed. “How do I know you’re a not a bandit, eh?”

“Ooh, you’re a tricky one,” Tanus said. He backed away, hands raised. “I'm a native.”

“Any bandit would say that.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll prove it.”

“What—?”

As Kirei watched, Tanus backed into a tree, spun around, and put his foot on the bark. What looked like a smooth, unclimbable tree to Kirei was actually easy game for Tanus, who could find footholds in any tree in Arrena. Her mouth opened slightly as she watched him scale it and then make himself comfortable in the topmost branches.

“Only a native could do that,” he shouted down at her. “Don’t believe me? Try it for yourself!”

“No thanks,” Kirei said. Tanus could almost hear the acid in her voice.

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. He moved around, inching off of one thick branch and onto another, slowly lowering himself. He was above the blankets that made up the roof of his hiding place when Kirei spoke again.

“So am I anywhere near Arrena Village?”

“Yup.”

“Won’t you lead me there? I don’t care if you’re rude. I really am very lost and you’re the only person I’ve seen so far.”

Tanus chuckled. “What do you need to do in Arrena, anyway?” he asked, testing the next branch to see if he could use it to get down. He decided it was too flexible and withdrew his foot.

“I came here looking for help.”

“Help? Help with what?” Tanus finally found another foothold and stepped onto the stone wall of his hideout. Now he was barely clinging onto the tree, using the wall as temporary support to get down. Kirei thought it looked absolutely unsafe.

“I need to find someone who lives here,” she said, frowning at this stunt. “You know everyone here, right?”

“You bet.”

“I need to find the demon fighter, Jericho.”

Tanus fell out of the tree. As soon as he heard his brother’s name, he lost his grip and fell straight to the ground, landing on his back in a thick patch of wildflowers.

“Oh! Are you all right? I just knew you were going to fall.”

Kirei’s voice. Tanus blinked up at her, trying to focus his vision.

“Of course,” he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his shoulder. “I'm fine. Nothing hurt but my pride.”

“So? Can you help me find Jericho?”

“Uh....”

“What?” Kirei said. “Honesty, I'm not a bandit—”

“No no, it’s not that. I never really thought you were.”

Tanus sighed as he got to his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground. It had been four years...did she not know? How could anyone not know?

“There’s a catch,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Um...you should sit down for this.”

Tanus sat on the ground, and motioned for her to do the same. She did—gingerly. Tanus almost laughed at the way she carried herself. Definitely royalty, or nobility.

“Jericho....” Tanus trailed off. He couldn’t say it. He had never said it out loud, ever. “You have to tell me...what do you want with Jericho?”

She lowered her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

She took a deep breath and looked him square in the eye. “Have you ever heard the legends of the Palace of Ambi?”

“Sure,” Tanus said with a laugh. “The gloomy old castle where it’s always raining? ‘If you don’t come in for dinner,’” Tanus said, mocking the local adults, “‘I’ll send you to Ambi where it’s always raining and you can’t ever play outdoors!’”

Silence.

“What?” Tanus asked. “That’s the legend of Ambi, right?”

“I...right...that’s the legend...but it isn’t just a story,” Kirei said. Her eyes were back on the ground. “The Palace of Ambi is a real place.”

There was another silence, as Tanus regarded her quizzically.

“You don’t really think so?” he said at last. He almost laughed at her. What a childish idea!

“Of course I do,” Kirei snapped. “I’ve lived there all my life!”

“Is this a joke?” Tanus asked skeptically. “I'm not one to fall for tricks so easily—if you really are a bandit or something, you can just say so—”

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me! If you know Jericho, ask him! He went there!”

Tanus’s taunts died on his lips.

Amazing, he thought. Amazing that just his name...has the power to freeze every bone in my body.

“All right, I’ll grant you that one,” Tanus said in a low voice. “For the sake of argument, Ambi is a real place. Continue.”

Kirei hugged her legs to her body and rested her chin on her knees. “I lived at Ambi with six other girls like myself. For many generations, our families have lived in the palace and led prosperous lives, but in return, we had to keep the palace hidden from everyone...we had to make people believe that it wasn't a real place.”

“Why?”

“You mustn’t laugh.”

“I’ll try.”

“Well, there is a woman...her name is Eve...she lost her husband Adam a long time ago. She was devastated, so our families kept her palace hidden away so people wouldn’t bother...but we’ve been doing it for what seems like forever...she’s an immortal.”

Tanus almost did laugh. But Kirei looked like she really believed what she was saying. She looked...sad. He let her continue, unable to believe that he believed her.

“Just recently, I found a shield made of ice...she said it belonged to her husband...she’s sure that he’s dead, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t die to go be with him...now she’s summoned powerful demons and sent them out into the world...she said...she ordered them...to ‘consume this earth, and everyone on it.’ She wants to die, and she doesn’t care who she takes with her....”

Kirei looked up at Tanus, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He felt pity gnaw at his heart.

“There was a note with the shield, signed by Jericho of Arrena,” Kirei whispered. Her eyes dropped back to the ground. “He said he had found the shield on a demon—an eight-headed dragon, that he destroyed. I’ve heard a lot about him...I thought if he could destroy whatever took the shield from Eve’s husband...then surely, he could do something to help me...I’m a ‘Keeper of Ambi’...it was my job to take care of things while the other girls were out looking for Adam...but I don’t know how to fix this...I don’t know if anyone can.”

Then she really did start to cry, burying her face in her arms to hide her tears. Tanus panicked. Now what was he supposed to do? Her only hope had died four years ago, and Tanus was so busy trying to comprehend that fact for himself he couldn’t begin to comfort her, much less tell her the bad news—not that it mattered. If she was telling the truth, they would all be dead soon anyway.

“Please don’t cry,” Tanus said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. Please, please don’t.

“I...I d-don’t know what to do...I’ve been l-lost in this forest for hours...a-and I’m scared the world is going to end and...oh, wh-what would the other girls say?” Kirei wailed.

“Aw, cheer up, it’ll be okay, it can’t be all that bad,” Tanus said, but he was lying. It actually sounded pretty bad to him. He wanted to help her, somehow, but what good was he? The last time he had fought any real demons had been four years ago, and—

His eyes squeezed shut. Don’t think about that, he ordered himself sternly. Jericho always said I was a great swordsman. I can help her. 

“P-please,” Kirei said. “Please take me to see Jericho...he’s got to help me....”

But Jericho can’t help you now...he can’t help me either. He’s gone. He always trusted me to take care of my family and the village when he was away on trips...but this is more than a trip. He’s gone forever, and I haven’t been taking care of anyone. 

Kirei wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “He’s the only one who can.”

He’d want to help you, if only he could...I want to help you.  

“I’ll help you,” Tanus said. 

“Wh-what?”

But you want Jericho. 

“I’ll help you.”

“You’ll take me to speak with Jericho?” Kirei asked hopefully. 

Tanus shook his head. Kirei frowned.

“But—”  

“You’re already speaking with him,” Tanus said. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. “Didn’t I tell you we just shake hands around here?” He held out his hand, and she took it with her own. They shook, and he smiled at her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kirei Emmalyn Mideya. My name’s Jericho Tabour.”

Chapter Four: The Town of Delmar

Kirei stared at Tanus, bewildered. “If you were Jericho all this time, why didn’t you just say so?”

Tanus swallowed. Could he really do this? The was the first test. 

“Just think,” he said. “Just think of how you would react if some stranger came knocking at Ambi’s door asking for Kirei. Wouldn’t you want to know motives?”

“Honestly, how many people come to Ambi in the first place—?”

“Not many people come to Arrena, either,” Tanus pointed out. “But you’re here, and I’ve been to Ambi. So that makes us even.”

Kirei smiled. “I suppose so.” She looked Tanus up and down, from head to toe. “So...you’re the Jericho I’ve heard so much about.”

“That’s right,” Tanus said, bowing. He had broken out into a sweat. He hoped she didn’t notice. “Jericho Tabour,” he said again, “I'm at your service.”

Kirei grinned, clapping her hands together in delight. “You mean you’ll help me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I will.”

“Oh, thank you!” Kirei hugged herself and spun in a happy circle. “When can we leave? Tomorrow? I'm sure we’ll need to stay overnight in your village to give you time to pack—”

“No!” Tanus said, panicking. There was no way could his family find out what he was doing! Just the mention of Jericho’s name was painful to his mother.

Kirei was staring at him. “Why not?”

“I—I left this morning. Said my goodbyes and packed my bag.”

Kirei blinked, surprised. “What for? Are you a prophet, as well?”

“No! I run—I take journeys through these woods all the time. To maintain spiritual peace.”

“Spiritual peace? Really?”

“Whatever you want to believe,” Tanus mumbled.

“What?”

“Uh, I said, ‘Whenever you want to, let’s leave,’” Tanus said, correcting himself.                                            

“Well, I only just got here, but I suppose we can leave if you really want to,” Kirei said. “Are you sure you don’t even want to rest a moment first?”

Tanus cocked an eyebrow. “You think our enemies will stop and rest?”

Silence.

“Didn’t think so. All right, let’s go. Wait. Where are we going?”

“North, up the shore,” Kirei told him. “To the seaside town of Bromacia. It’s a two day journey from here, on horseback.”

“You have a horse?” Tanus asked. He had never seen a real one before, but he couldn’t let her know this. “Where is it?”

“I couldn’t bring a horse into a forest with trees this thick. I left her by the place where the stream meets the forest’s edge.”

“I know where that is. Follow me.”

“Are you sure you don’t even want to say goodbye to your family?”

Tanus pause, shifting his weight from one foot to the other but not moving.

“I’ll send a message to them after we get to Bromacia,” he said finally. “Only two days...anyway, I don’t want to go back.” If he did, his resolve would break. And his secret would be out.

“Well, if you’re sure....”

Tanus grabbed his bag, and led Kirei up the sloping forests, using the direction of the stream to guide him. He kept up a steady pace, but had to pause several times to let his new companion stop and rest. She was embarrassed, and kept reminding him that the trip down had been a lot easier, and she wasn’t used to hiking, anyway.

Tanus, after hearing this for the fourth time, decided there had to be something better to talk about. He stopped again to let her sit on a fallen log, and while she was catching her breath and getting ready to deliver her speech again, he asked, “So what’s in Bromacia, anyway?”

“Oh, everything,” Kirei said, with her eyes closed. “Haven’t you been? You had to have passed through it when you visited Ambi.”

Oh, right, Tanus thought, giving himself a mental kick. He’d heard of Bromacia...his brother had told him stories of it. So had some other villagers.

“It’s a very large town,” Kirei continued. “Lots of different kind of people live there. The trade is really good, and you see all types coming in and out, from other lands, from across the seas....”

“Right, right, I know that. What I'm asking is why we need to go there.”

“Well,” Kirei said, getting to her feet and starting up the trail, “I have a friend there. You know Bromacia’s the nearest village to the Palace of Ambi...the other girls and I were always going in to do things. One day we met this old wise man, who offered to read all our fortunes for a silver coin apiece.”

Tanus whistled, and he jogged to catch up with her. “I hope those were some good fortunes.”

“Well, that’s the weird part,” Kirei said. “We, uh, weren’t exactly short on money, so we handed it over. And he read us our fortunes...he told each and every one of us something that would happen to us in the near future. For instance, he told one of the other girls that she would meet someone new soon. A month later she was telling us about her new boyfriend, and a year after that, they were married.”

“It was probably a coincidence,” Tanus said.

“That’s what I thought too!” Kirei said. She was smiling. “But another prediction of his was that another girl I was with would meet on old friend three days from then. And sure enough, she did. Eventually, all seven predictions he gave out that day came true.”

“What did he tell you?” Tanus asked.

“He told me that I would find something important that had been lost for a long time,” Kirei said quietly. “For the longest time I was so mad that mine was the only one that didn’t come true...but in the end, he was right. I went to see him after I left Ambi and asked him where to find you. I told him his prediction had come true, and that I needed to know where Jericho was from.”

“And he told you?” Tanus asked, eyebrows raised.

“He certainly did. He told me exactly, ‘The person you need is in Arrena.’ He told me how to get here, and so here is where I came. And he was right again!”

The person she needs? Tanus thought, as they paused to let Kirei rest again. I'm not the one she needs at all. Her wise man is all wrong. She came here looking for a hero, not his brother.

*                              *                              * 

After another twenty minutes of walking, the trees began to thin, and then they disappeared entirely. When Tanus and Kirei reached the edge of the forest, Kirei immediately stopped to rest again, but Tanus hesitated. He barely glanced at the green field before him, before he turned backwards to look at his village, nestled safely in between two mountains, surrounded by the trees Arrena Forest. It was barely visible now; tree branches grew outwards, covering their homes from view, and only  precious few could be seen in small clearings here and there. Tanus could see the ocean beyond them, could see where the trees thinned out on the other side of the forest and gave way to the beach.

He had walked that beach, explored that forest, even hiked a short distance up one of those mountains, but he had never been out this far before. He had seen this green field he was standing in, but only from the safety of his trees. He had heard of the world outside his forest from other villagers who had gone to see it—from his brother, too—but he had never seen it for himself. And now he was leaving it, and not telling a soul where he was going.

He felt a hand touch his arm.

“Jericho?”

Tanus jumped; he was not used to hearing his brother’s name spoken aloud, especially not so casually. He looked to his right and saw that Kirei was studying him with a mildly concerned look on her face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back?” Kirei was panting as she spoke, still winded from their hike up from the valley.

“I'm sure.” Tanus forced a smile. He turned away from his village and looked at what lay ahead.

The first thing he saw was the horse. It was a magnificent thing—solid white, with fine hair on both its mane and tail, with an embroidered blanket thrown over its back. It wasn’t tied up, but instead drinking peacefully from the stream flowing down into the forest, and it didn’t even looked up when Tanus took a hesitant step towards it.

“You didn’t tie him up,” Tanus said, stunned. He was still marveling at the horse, the first he’d ever seen. It looked so powerful—but it was beautiful, too. “Won’t he get away?”

“No, she wouldn’t run from me,” Kirei told Tanus, correcting him on the horse’s gender. She walked over to the horse and gave it a affectionate pat on its neck. Tanus took another hesitant step after her. “She’s very intelligent.”

“She looks intelligent.”

Kirei laughed. “She looks like a horse! You’re acting as though you’ve never seen one before.”

“Hey,” Tanus said, becoming defensive, “I live in a place where there aren’t any horses. I don’t see them often. Besides, this one is...different.”

Kirei laughed again, but it sounded forced. Tanus had now taken a few more steps towards the horse, and was close enough to reach out and touch it, although he didn’t dare.

“Don’t be silly,” Kirei said, noticing with unease that Tanus’s eyes were on the blanket. “She’s just a regular old horse.”

“Well, she’s white—”

“Still, that’s just her color, it’s not—”

“—but that blanket looks kind of odd, too,” Tanus said. “Kinda lumpy. You must be a bandit after all. Have you got her saddlebags full of stolen gold?”

“No,” Kirei said, eyes wide. “She wears it to keep warm.”

“But it’s warm right now.” Tanus reached out and grabbed the blanket. “She’s probably hot. You should take it off.”

Before Kirei could stop him, Tanus had pulled the blanket downwards. It slipped off of the horse’s back, and Tanus, shocked at what he was seeing, let it fall to the ground, his mind too dazed to remember to tell his fingers to keep their grip.

Jutting out elegantly from the horse’s front legs were two long, white, feathered wings.

“I haven’t seen too many horses,” Tanus said, voice very quiet, “but I know that most of them don’t have wings.”

“They don’t,” Kirei said, shifting nervously. “Well, she lived at Ambi, it’s no wonder, but—I couldn’t just leave her there! You didn’t see what Eve was doing to that place! And—and the blanket was over her—I didn’t even know about the wings until after we escaped....”

Tanus’s eyes were still focused on the horse. “So she flies?”

“Er...no.”

Tanus shifted his gaze to look at Kirei. She blushed.

“I’ve tried everything,” Kirei said, shrugging helplessly. “She hasn’t flown for me. I—I asked the wise man, and he said she’d forgotten how. She’s still quite fast, though—and she’s very smart, and very strong.”

Tanus reached out hesitantly and stroked the soft feathers of the horse’s wing. She looked over at him, but did not jerk or make a sound.

“We’ll both have to ride her,” Kirei said. “The journey to Bromacia will take two days, but we can stop and stay the night at Delmar. That’s what I did on the way here.” Tanus had no idea what Delmar was. Another village? “Riding would normally take longer, but this horse is incredibly fast.”

Ride? I didn’t even think of that. He had never ridden a horse. It didn’t sound hard, but....

“I’ve never ridden before,” he admitted. This held with his story. Jericho had once told him that he had only ridden a horse once, and hated it so much he had walked everywhere after that, no matter how far he had to travel.

“How did you get to Bromacia?” Kirei asked.

“I walked.”

“You walked to Bromacia?” Kirei asked, eyes wide.

“Sure,” Tanus said, shrugging. He swallowed. Here came the next lie. “I walked to Ambi, too.”

Silence.

“Do you mean to tell me,” Kirei began slowly, “that you crossed the Crenshaw Plains, the widest part of Fishtail River, the entire town of Bromacia, and scaled the Horsewing Mountain Range all by foot?”

“Um...yeah, pretty much.”

“That is amazing. You did all that and you can’t ride a horse?”

“If I could ride a horse, would I have done it by foot?”

“I suppose not.”

Tanus shook his head and sighed, and turned his attention to the land before him. The field.

The Crenshaw Plains, Kirei had called them. They seemed almost familiar to her, but Tanus had only gazed at them from his safety net of trees. As much as he wanted to see the world, he had never had much desire to go further than the border of his forest when he was looking at that wide, open space. It almost frightened him. It was nothing, but a wide plain of grass, all the way out to the horizon, save for the stream that was next to them. It was like going down to the beach and looking at the ocean, and wondering how on earth a boat could sail on it—there were no landmarks, no trees or rocks or—anything. Nothing looked any different from everything else. What if they got lost? There weren’t any trails. There were no landmarks. There was no way to check the trees for moss and see which way north was. There was just that endless stretch of flat, green, land.

Kirei had been utterly lost in a place that Tanus could guide her through with his eyes closed. Now the roles were reversed. The field seemed huge and endless, and only she knew how to get them to the other side.

How did Jericho even do this? And by foot, alone?

“I'm done resting, if you’re ready,” Kirei said. “Er, since you’ve never ridden, you should just get on behind me and try to hang on tight enough so you don’t fall. I can go over the finer points of it later.”

“Is that safe?” Tanus asked.

“Of course it is,” Kirei said. “Most people will tell you you’re safer in front, but it’s not true. Would you like to get on first, or shall I?”

“Uh, ladies first,” Tanus said. He helped Kirei toss the blanket back over the horse, and then watched Kirei on. He didn’t realize how high it was until he nearly fell mounting the horse. He had to try it three times before he was able to climb behind Kirei, but the horse was very patient. He was sure most horses would have kicked him by the time he had finally settled himself on its back.

“Comfy?” Kirei asked, amused.

“Sort of.”

“All right, now grab my waist.”

Tanus did, feeling very awkward. Kirei wanted to laugh at him, but she didn’t.

“Think you’ll be okay?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Then let’s go! Hyaa!” Kirei’s feet gently nudged the horse’s stomach, and it took off like a shot, eager to run.

Tanus let out a cry of surprise. Kirei hadn’t been exaggerating when she said the horse was fast. He saw at once why Jericho might hate this—it was weird to move without being the one to walk or run. It was fast, but also bumpy. He forgot his awkward grip on Kirei’s waist at once and held on for dear life as the horse sped through the field, following the stream.

It was a long time before the horse grew tired and slowed a little, and by that time Tanus’s arms had become stuff from hanging onto Kirei so tightly. He loosened his grip as the horse slowed, determined to get used to it, and Kirei, sensing that he was finally relaxing, started a conversation to help pass the time.

“So when was the last time you visited Bromacia?” she asked.

Tanus knew the answer to this question, without having to think over the past.

“Four years ago,” he replied.

“Wow! That’s a long time. What made you stop coming?”

Tanus didn’t answer.

“Jericho?” Kirei asked, twisting around to look at him.

“My village was attacked by demons,” Tanus said softly. “After that I thought I’d better stay and protect it.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” Kirei said. “Was anyone hurt?”

Tanus felt as if someone was pressing on his chest, hindering his ability to breathe.

“Just one person,” he said.

“That’s good, then,” Kirei said, with a smile. “Could have been much worse.”

I doubt that.

*                              *                              * 

It wasn’t long before they reached the place where the Arrena Stream met Fishtail River. The stream, Tanus knew, was actually a tributary, but he had always thought the actual river would be about the same size. He was very wrong—the river was wide, and the water flowing down it was moving very quickly. He stared openly as they continued to follow this river upstream.

“I know,” Kirei said, misinterpreting his look. “We got here really fast. We’ll get to Delmar in no time. Riding is much faster, eh?”

Tanus could only nod. He was trying to mask his mild case of culture shock, and felt that anything he said would give him away.

The ride to the village was a quiet one. Both Tanus and Kirei were growing exhausted of staying on the horse’s back (although the horse seemed a little tired, at best), and they both wanted the trip to end. This, of course, made the last stretch of the day’s travels seem longer than it really was, which drained them further. They didn’t feel like using their energy to speak, and so they simply watched silently as the sun began to sink below the horizon, turning the sky various shades of orange. It wasn’t until the sun was almost completely gone that Kirei spotted the village on the horizon.

“Look, it’s Delmar!” she cried happily.

Tanus squinted into the setting sun. He couldn’t see it, but he believed her. As the village grew closer and the sun finally vanished for good, he was able to see a cluster of homes built around another tributary running off from Fishtail River. Kirei didn’t stop, but instead directed the horse straight into town. Tanus looked around for the first time at a village that wasn’t his own.

Delmar was about the same size as Arrena, but their buildings had been constructed differently. He couldn’t put his finger on what made them look different, but they did. Another thing that seemed odd to him was that there weren’t very many trees. There were no winding paths from one home to the next. It was closer together, but all out in the open. What if bandits came or demons attacked? They had no natural shelter.

He was jerked away from his thoughts when at last the horse came to a halt. Kirei slid off the horse, and Tanus followed her. It only took Kirei a moment to regain her senses after being on the horse for so long, but Tanus wobbled unsteadily and had to hold onto the horse to balance himself.

“You stay here until you get your legs in working order,” Kirei said, amused. “There’s a trough over there where you can leave the horse. I don’t want to keep her tied,” she said, noticing the look Tanus was giving her, “but it’ll look strange if we don’t. I’ll loan some rope from inside while I pay for our night’s stay.”

“Did you need me to help?” Tanus asked. “We don’t really use money in Arrena, but—”

“Oh...no, I'm from Ambi, remember? I’ve got more than enough to take care of it. You just try to get your legs to walk with you again, all right?”

“All right.” Tanus watched her go inside. He was exhausted, and just a little homesick. What was Ashi making for dinner? Was Remus still thinking he would come back the next day for lunch? Had his aunt tried to track him down for fetching water again?

Tanus pushed the thoughts aside and stretched. His legs were steadier now, and so he walked around the inn, looking around. He made a full circle around before stopping to rest again.

“Good evening.”

Tanus jumped. The words weren’t directed at him, but the voice had startled him. It was a man’s voice, gruff. He turned to the source of the voice and squinted, trying to make out what the man looked like in the dark.

He saw the silhouettes of two people. From their broad shoulders, Tanus guessed that both were men. Their voices were distant, and as he listened, trying to hear what they were saying, their tones turned angry.

It wasn’t long after that that one man turned towards the other, and let his hand fly out towards the other’s stomach. Tanus gasped, and the man who had been hit cried out, falling to his knees. The man who had hit him turned and ran.

Tanus, feeling it would be unethical to just stand there, rushed to the mans side. As he got closer, the man fell from his knees to lying on the ground face-down. Tanus had never seen anyone react so strongly from being punched. Concerned, he knelt by the man and turned him over.

“Are you okay?”

There was no answer. He felt something wet on his hands. Blood, he realized, with a jolt of horror. His eyes grew wide and traveled to the man’s stomach. The blood was thicker there, and still flowing even as he stared in mute horror.

Tanus realized now that this man hadn’t been punched in the stomach at all—he had been stabbed, and he was unconscious. And Tanus, a complete stranger in the town of Delmar, was sitting right at the scene of the crime.

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