The Wardens of Strar, page 15
“Well, surprisingly, I didn't give much thought to a change of clothing when I fled Horntale. I've got these and my blood-soaked clothes the maids are still trying to clean,” Yasmiel snapped. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to neaten it up.
“We'll have to do something about that later. You smell horrid,” Narascha said, shaking her head. “But for now we need to head to the Commander's office.”
Yasmiel grabbed her belt, noting that the sword was still sheathed inside. Yawning, she snatched up her cloak and followed after Narascha. They went down the hall and up the stairs, straight for Cobian's office.
The Commander sat there waiting, a pot of tea beside him. There were bags beginning to form under his eyes, but he sat up straight, a scroll clutched tightly in his hand. Kaer sat on the edge of his desk, tossing a rubber ball off the wall for entertainment. With one quick flick of her hand, Narascha turned it to ash with a spark of lightning.
“Wow, that was mean!” Kaer protested. “You could have just asked me to stop.”
“This is serious.” Narascha scowled as she sat down, her complete attention now on the Commander. He had relaxed a little bit, smiling at their antics. “What's going on, Commander?”
At this question, his eyes grew more serious. “We just received word from Wardens Dorian and Amara. They have told me that a chill has descended on the city of Rulmaer. Crops are freezing and the people are becoming ill, which is forcing them to rely on deliveries from the caravans.”
Yasmiel frowned. “Like the one attacked by that General?”
“Exactly,” Cobian agreed. “Rulmaer is in grave danger, it prides itself in being 'open to all' so it has no walls to protect its front and only the mountainside at its back. Even with the city’s defenders there as protection, it will be hard to stop the Mortem penetrating the outskirts.”
“Are their defenders not enough? Do they really need us?” Yasmiel asked.
Cobian grimaced. “If they are overwhelmed, then that's it. The city would be finished.”
“We've been telling them to fortify for years,” Kaer said. “They never listen.”
“They have been foolish, but we still can't stay here and let them die,” Cobian said sharply. Kaer winced as his Commander continued to speak. “If they all die, Zerx can revive everyone in the city, then he has a whole new army. Under no circumstances can we let him take Rulmaer.”
Kaer grinned. “So, we're gonna help Dorian and Amara? Sounds fun.”
Cobian shifted, grimacing. “Dorian has been forced to leave due to some unfortunate events—"
“Is he alright?” Kaer frowned.
Cobian smiled. “He'll be fine. Dorian just needs to rest.”
Yasmiel glanced over at Narascha, who looked as confused as she felt. It was a relief to know that for once, she wasn't the only one puzzled.
“So, Dorian won't be fighting?” Yasmiel asked, her brow furrowing.
She watched in frustration as a silent glance passed between Cobian and Kaer. Once again, she was being kept in the dark.
“August has never agreed with Dorian. It always makes him ill for the first week or two,” Kaer replied, strangely hesitant. “He should have stayed here, but he was determined to try and help despite his illness.” He turned to Cobian. “So, he's returning home then?”
Cobian nodded. “Brittal is on her way to bring him back. Dorian said he'll wait at a nearby village that she can teleport herself to.”
“Knowing him, he'll wander off somewhere else,” Kaer snorted, shaking his head fondly.
Yasmiel tried to remember if she had met a 'Dorian' before, but she couldn't picture anyone with that name. She was curious why was he still a Warden if he was ill? It was an illness that happened every August and honestly, she couldn't think of what could cause such a thing. Then again, Yasmiel was no healer.
“So, about the city of Rulmaer—" Narascha began, eyes burning with curiosity.
“It's known for being a great place to party. It's up all night and sleeps during the day,” Cobian explained. “Or at least that's what they say. Kaer would know more than me on that account.”
His eyes had trailed over to Kaer who grinned, completely unashamed. Yasmiel grinned too. She had never been to a city before and wondered how big Rulmaer would be. It could be quite the adventure.
“Dorian and I have had many great times there,” Kaer laughed.
“So, you wish us to protect it?” Narascha raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. Not only do we not want Zerx to increase his army, but Rulmaer brings in money for the Kingdom with its trade from Valhollow,” Cobian said, grimacing. “Should it and its people fall, we could find ourselves suffering very hard times. It will be devastating if the people of Strar begin to believe that the Wardens can't protect them. We rely upon the Royal Family to provide us with weapons and food since we don't raise our own money. If they lose faith in us, we may be seen as worthless.”
Yasmiel was surprised. The Wardens of Strar were founded by the Royal Family? Was that true for all the Wardens or was it just those in Strar?
“You won't be on your own there. Durwald has already headed over to help Amara. The five of you will have to take care of Rulmaer and keep me updated on the situation.” Cobian glanced at Kaer. “You will need to scout, see how many Mortem are lingering in the area.”
“Alright, then.” Kaer grinned as he jumped off the desk with his hands held out. “So, do I get an orb?”
“A 'please' would be nice,” Cobian mused. He got up and headed for the cabinet on the wall.
He tugged at his collar, pulling out a necklace with a set of keys jangling from it. Unlocking the door revealed a shelf with around twenty of the orbs Kaer was so obsessed with. In his excitement, Kaer didn't even wait for Cobian to lift one out. He grabbed an orb and tossed it between his hands, eyes alight with glee.
“Yasmiel.” Cobian glanced back at her, brow furrowed. “I would like to speak to you for a bit longer. I suggest the rest of you get ready to leave for Rulmaer.”
Kaer ruffled Yasmiel's hair on the way past while Narascha gave her a friendly nod, leaving the pair to their private conversation. With a scowl in Kaer's direction, Yasmiel tried to fix the bird's nest of hair he had left her with, but without a brush, she had no chance. The door clicked shut behind them just as Cobian approached her, a strained look upon his face.
“What's wrong?” Yasmiel frowned when he hesitated.
“When you come back, I think we should prepare for Briar's funeral.”
Yasmiel's heart dropped just as he sighed, leaning against his desk. “I understand how difficult this is, but you have to face it. The longer you leave it, the worse it will get.”
She crossed her arms tightly, digging her fingernails into her elbows, trying to pull herself together, but it didn't work. By the Gods, she never thought this would happen. At least not so quickly. Yasmiel knew that when the funeral finally took place, she would have to say 'goodbye' to her dad, and she didn't want to.
Her thoughts drifted to Kaer and she remembered him telling her to say goodbye when she felt ready. She knew her dad had to be buried, but the thought of saying her final farewell was tearing her apart. Cobian was right, though. The longer she left it, the more difficult it became to even think about. She had been pushing all thoughts of the funeral away and that wasn't fair on her dad.
It wasn't fair on her either.
“I'm scared,” Yasmiel admitted.
The thought of burning him, knowing he'd never be in her life again, ached. That things would never go back to normal. That her dad was gone.
“I am too,” Cobian revealed, eyes earnest. “But where there is fear, there is also courage. The desire to save others, and the desire to protect yourself. When you find that courage, you use it and face your fears.”
Yasmiel watched him head towards the window, staring out into the night sky with a distant look upon his face.
“I decided long ago that I would face my fears, even as everyone kept falling around me.”
“And have you won that battle?”
He smiled at her. “I'm still fighting him.”
It took a moment for her to understand what he meant. She nodded. He feared Zerx, yet Cobian fought him anyway. The thought made her smile.
“Thank you, Cobian.”
.::.
Rulmaer was in ruin. Heavy snow fell from the sky, slowly burying the piles of bodies littering the blood-soaked streets. The large white flakes turned red as they hit the ground. Buildings, which were once filled with life, sat spattered with blood, empty and forlorn. All three stared in silent horror until, stumbling forward, Narascha finally spoke.
“How? W-We only just got the warning!” she stammered, her eyes scanning the scene, trying to make sense of what lay before her. “I don't understand—"
Kaer examined the street with a critical eye. “Bloodstains look fresh. It looks like this attack took place mere hours ago.”
“Is this really Rulmaer?” Yasmiel asked, hesitantly, stepping back as Kaer lost his temper and cursed.
“It is. I should know. I used to sleep in that tavern over there,” Kaer snapped, pointing at a large building with multiple floors.
Narascha couldn't read the name, the sign was covered in blood.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Kaer paced even as Narascha took a deep breath.
She had to reign in the fear. Take control and get themselves back on track. Obviously, the attack was over. Everything was silent. Durwald had been sent ahead of them. Hopefully, he was alright, him and Amara both.
“Kaer, get a hold of yourself,” Narascha said. “We need to find out what happened here. And where Durwald and, if she's alive, Amara are.”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“Where would they most likely be?” she asked.
“The Mayor's house or the main square I suppose.” Kaer ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.
“What are we going to do?” Yasmiel threw up her hands, fire flickering off them. “Cobian said we needed to protect Rulmaer and it's gone!”
Narascha stared at the fire thoughtfully. Was the fire usage intentional or was it purely emotional? From the look on Yasmiel's face, her eyes wild, lips curled into a snarl, it was the latter. Since Yasmiel wasn't burning anything, hopefully, that meant she was gaining control over her magic.
“For now, we calm down,” Narascha said. “Next, we go find out if High Warden Durwald is alive and see if he knows anything.”
“Then?” Yasmiel asked.
“Hope for a miracle.” Kaer frowned.
.::.
The streets were eerily silent, the only sound being their own footsteps. It left Kaer tense and wary, unused to such silence in Rulmaer. This area was for merchants and travellers, filled with entertainment. There should be dancers, usually the fire ones, who performed every weekend up on stage. The main dancer would finish off the attraction by eating her fire and blowing it out above the crowd. The crowd would stand in awe, distracted by the flames. Then, the street rats would pile in from the lower districts. They'd race between the travellers, and pilfer from their pockets.
That was what he used to do as a kid, and it should have been happening right now.
Yasmiel gasped the moment they stepped out onto the square. Kaer fought against the urge to scream. It was carnage. Torn bodies littered the streets. Yasmiel covered her mouth and nose, trying not to breathe in the nauseating stench. He couldn't blame her, Narascha was doing the same, but Kaer did his best to ignore it.
It didn't work very well, but he was trying.
While the girls tried to regain themselves, he marched on, heading straight for the lone figure standing at the end of the square. Durwald stood as still as a statue, staring up at something, face grim and gripping his axe. His knuckles white. As they got closer, his eyes darted to them and Kaer saw that his eyes burned with fury.
“Someone's gonna pay,” Durwald spat. “That message was fucking delayed.”
Narascha frowned. “Delayed? What do you mean delayed?”
“That ain't your business, girl,” Durwald snapped, glaring at Kaer. “This game you're playing. It ain't working. You need to quit now before it gets you killed.”
Kaer grimaced and glanced back. Yasmiel and Narascha both looked baffled, but Kaer merely returned his attention to Durwald and shook his head. He couldn't give up just like that. Not when a traitor was wandering in their own home, trying to destroy them from within. Kaer didn't want to lose another home, not after losing two already.
“I can't do that,” Kaer sighed. “Especially not now. I need to drag them out.”
That was when Kaer caught a flicker of blue and turned around. He froze. Yasmiel let out a choked, sickly noise when she followed his gaze. Narascha winced and looked away. Amara hung upside down, her chest covered in blood after being torn into by claws. He could see the marks at the edge of her ripped skin and felt his blood boil. Amara's dull, blue eyes stared back at them, twisted in terror and her long, blonde, bloodstained hair drifted in the wind. It was the only thing breaking the silence. Seeing her blue Warden cloak, the one Amara had so much pride in, made him shake.
It was stained red. Amara, who took so much time to keep it clean and in great condition, had a torn, bloodstained cloak.
“Amara,” his voice cracked.
“She and Rulmaer ain't our biggest problems now,” Durwald said. “Muriel was here.”
Yasmiel paled. Kaer took a deep breath, threw aside the thoughts of Rulmaer and Amara, and focused.
“When exactly?” Kaer asked.
“Ten minutes ago,” Durwald grimaced. “She told me that Zerx had been after the Mayor. That she tried to get him out but retreated the moment Zerx arrived.”
Yasmiel scoffed. “Of course. She runs again.”
“She has to protect the artefact,” Durwald reminded her.
“Well, maybe she should have protected May instead!” Yasmiel spat. “We don't even know if she's alive. And of course, mum doesn't care!”
Yasmiel kicked the fence that lined the grass of the city centre. Fire exploded off her boot, devouring the fence, while the kid marched away. The curses she snarled would have made even a sailor flush. Kaer watched in a mixture of horror and amazement as her hair too sparked with fire like her hands. How her hair didn't burn off, he didn't know, but then again, he wasn't a mage.
Yasmiel stopped. Took a deep breath and latched onto her arms, digging her nails into the skin. Kaer hurried to her side, seeing the scratches and snatched up her hands.
“Wait! Don't hurt yourself, Yas. Hold onto me instead, alright?” Kaer pleaded.
The fire in her hair flickered and died down, and the fire in her hands didn't burn him, much to his relief. He had just grabbed her like a moron after all, but he didn't want to see her hurting herself, trying to calm down.
Yasmiel took a bit to settle, and he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. Soon her eyes grew firm and strong, and her breathing settled before he pulled away. She sent him a weak but thankful smile before they approached Durwald once more, her whole form shaking in terror and rage.
Durwald lowered Amara down while Narascha began handling bodies spilling over the street, freezing them over and shattering them with a clench of her fist. The fire was gone, leaving the formerly white fence stained with burns.
“So, my mum was here for the Mayor? Why?” Yasmiel asked quietly, rubbing her arm. “What's so special about him?”
“Nothing as far as I know,” Durwald groused. “By Ekon's sword, Cobian's going to have a heart attack, hearing all this. You were here for years too, brat. Are you gonna hold up?”
Kaer forced a grin. “Of course. We just need to do a bit of clean up then old Rulmaer will look as good as new.”
After clearing all the bodies. All the orphans and runaways in the lower district, the thieves and alcoholics. All the travellers and merchants in the main district. Then all the wealthy bastards that didn't care about anyone in the upper district, who sneered and look down on everybody. Who had deserved to be torn apart by Zerx-
Kaer grimaced. No. That wasn't a line of thought he should entertain. Not as a High Warden.
Durwald's sigh cut off his thoughts. He looked tired and almost worried. He could handle it, it was Durwald. The old guy could handle most things.
“I'll send a report back to Cobian. You take Amara home,” Durwald said.
“And you?” Kaer frowned.
He wasn't going to just stay here by himself, was he? It was Durwald so he probably would. It just seemed like a stupid idea. He glanced back, Yasmiel was helping Narascha, though her fire kept flickering in and out of her hands. The kid blew on it, trying to help it flare. She was still shaking and there was a fiery tinge in her eyes.
“I'm going to look into what happened. There has to be a reason why Muriel might come here and why Zerx attacked Rulmaer.” Durwald's hand landed on his shoulder and his eyes were surprisingly soft. “Be careful, got it?”
“Yes, mother dear.” Kaer winked, ducking as Durwald tried to swat him. Kaer laughed a little at that, but he caught sight of Amara's body and the small bit of joy left him. “You're going to come back. Right?”
Durwald looked at him with pitying eyes. “You know better than to ask that. Anything can happen in this line of work.”
“I know,” Kaer sighed. “But I don't know what I'd do if you died. Mara, Felix, my family are all gone. You're the only one I got left.”
“Don't get sentimental on me now, Kaer.” Durwald ruffled his hair, just like he used to do when Kaer was a teen and started out as a Warden. “You'll live. You always do. Now stop getting upset about Amara and Rulmaer and move on.”
“Best we can do, huh?” Kaer smiled, but he knew it was a pathetic one. “Want me to come back—"
“No. Stay home.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Kaer didn't bother dodging the swat to his head this time. He grinned at the whack even as he beckoned Yasmiel and Narascha over, rubbing his sore head. “Okay, ladies! Time to go home!”
