The Column of Ash [Epic Fantasy]

"It's agreeable," the Black Han said to me as we walked to the docks only an hour after the tense negotiation with the priests. He wore his mask even now, for it was evidently a cultural norm to do so while in public. "Orest informed me. He said Emalia had some spirit. Your Demetria, too. Quite the entourage you keep, Daecinus. Hah!"

"They're hardly mine to keep." I faced the sea. We had loaded the Artifact and secured it. There was no avoiding the New Pethans learning about it now. I hoped it would not manifest into a problem. "Emalia is wise. And you would be equally wise to heed her in our stead."

"Worry not; I keep to my agreements, even if hastily made through a subordinate."

I nodded in acknowledgment. "Will you remain here or return to Kubalak?"

He let out an exaggeratedly tired sigh. "Return, I imagine. Orest will deal with the city in my absence. There are always squabbles to sort, especially after victory, as you might understand."

"I do."

"Tell me, Daecinus Aspartes, when do you plan on moving west?"

The question of great import. I'd contemplated it much myself, but there was no way to know, with how little I knew of New Petha still. Would they give me power, or would there be a struggle? Did they even have the resources and manpower to launch a campaign? Desirdus would promise me the moon if it made me happy, though he was hesitant to delve into details. Ignatia told a different story when I caught her alone, and though she was deferential to her superior, she spoke of uncertainties in achieving power. Of the two, it seemed Desirdus thought of me as a religious figure who ought to remain in that box, while Ignatia was nonetheless more pragmatic about my options. Both were loyal enough. I had not been able to query other Sorcerers yet, but the two had, by far, the most political sway.

After a moment of thought, I answered him, "As soon as possible. Vasia has a new leader behind the tsar: a collection of Souls of past priests, taking corporeal form."

He stopped abruptly and stared at me. "A collection of Souls?"

"Yes. He is a combination of many identities, all of which have experience and power. He is also a Sorcerer of considerable strength. A dangerous adversary."

"Ancestors' Spirits, I would say so. But Vasia is an old, broken thing. It will take more than some Souls to revive it into a state to face the Great Han. Already, our outriders test their frontiers. Soon, we will move to consolidate the Free Cities." They were west of the Silver Peaks, lying between the Targul and Vasia, a sort of natural buffer between Vasia and their expansive eastern neighbor. "You have a year, I would say, before we campaign further west than the Cities."

That seemed optimistic to me, but I held my tongue. It was not necessarily in my best interest to see the Targul win easily. Once Vasia was done, they would border a great extent of my new realm, and we would be overextended, vulnerable to attack. And so, I grunted in acknowledgment. "I will send messengers through the sea to inform you when I have a better estimate."

"Good. And if you rein in their damn raiding and piracy, I would appreciate it."

I chuckled. "Once I am in power, we shall formalize our alliance, and then you will not have to worry about such raids again."

"I will wait attentively for the day. It has been many years since the Targul had a strong friend and never once one in the north." He extended a hand. "This has been most fortuitous, Daecinus Aspartes. I look forward to the future."

I took his hand and shook it. "As do I."

He laughed and gripped my arm instead. "Ah, these times will be interesting indeed!"

We parted ways more like friends than allies. It was odd, but then, much in this world was not as I remembered. If my memory was even reliable, or merely what my unconscious wanted me to remember. I left him, finding Demetria saying her goodbyes to Emalia and Sovina. There were smiles and, oddly, tears. Sovina was the only one who remained stoic enough, though I would be a fool to miss the warmth under the surface. I approached her as the other two spoke together in what appeared to be an unexpected degree of care and friendship. For all my years, I still didn't quite grasp certain elements of women's relationships.

"I'm surprised you're staying," I said to Sovina. "The allure of a foreign land with strange ways meant much to Emalia."

Sovina shrugged. "It was about reuniting you and Demetria with your people. That is done."

"And my thanks for that. Truly."

"Of course." She nodded at the han with his retinue, far off. "Do you trust him?"

"You should be wary."

"I always am. But do you trust him?"

I thought on that. "I'm not sure. Demetria believes he will be reliable…"

"But you are more skeptical."

"I try to defer to her better judgment."

"Of course." She grinned almost knowingly. "That's the smart thing to do." The playfulness faded, and she turned somber, watching Emalia and Demetria part from a hug. "You two will be missed, but we'll see each other again. Likely with the beginning of a war."

My jaw tightened. "The war's already begun. It did when he tried to kill Demetria." I gave her a long, unblinking look. "And Emalia."

She returned my stare, fire in her eyes as searing as that in my heart. "Oh, I haven't forgotten. We share the same enemy. Vasia means nothing to me."

"And your better half?"

She hesitated. "Not as much as she believes. But that takes time." Her gaze moved to her partner, softening. "Em was always more dedicated than I. Devotion to the Column itself comes with that."

The woman in question turned to us, along with Demetria, who said with her arms outstretched, "Let us not part so gravely. Come, Sovina, don't run away from me again."

She snorted and embraced Demetria. It warmed my heart, and in a far different sense than before, to see them bonded so. I had feared I'd brought Demetria back into this world just to fight and scrape and sway to survive, but this was a kind relief from that nightmare. Now, Emalia stood across from me, and we had a moment together of partial privacy.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"You're welcome to visit New Petha," I said. "Any time you wish."

"I would like to. But I also want to be here for these people."

"You feel that you owe them."

"Maybe," she said, lips pursed in consideration, eyes narrowed. "Or maybe I have a responsibility to help where I can."

"You can help in New Petha."

"Daecinus, please don't try to persuade me to leave."

I put my hand up in surrender, grinning. "I would never dare. Just be safe. Don't go opening strange sarcophagi, for instance."

She laughed. "And you don't try to vanquish any possessions."

Sailors shouted in the near distance, and I glanced over to see the last preparations being made. Suddenly, I didn't want to leave. Emalia was one of the first people I'd met upon waking, and she had been by my side the longest. Even in my darkest hour, she didn't give up on trying to help me. And it was because of her that I brought Demetria back. My throat became scratchy and chest tight with emotion as I struggled out, "Be safe here, please. I mean it."

"I will, Daecinus." Sovina stood next to her and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. Emalia blushed but didn't let go.

I would miss their honest affection.

A presence loomed behind me. I waved Protis forward. The Soulborne's armor rattled as it stood at my shoulder. It looked at me, then at Sovina and Emalia. Though I couldn't read its thoughts, I certainly had my intuition. I have the Shell watching my war chest. And mercenaries with the Artifact. I chewed at my lip and exchanged a glance with Demetria.

She nodded. "They would make use of Protis better than us. We will be with allies now."

Perhaps. Or it will be more complicated than we believe, I thought.

"I know," she said, predicting my considerations. "But you can make more Soulborne—though none quite as charming as Protis, of course."

I looked at Emalia and Sovina. "Would it be too disruptive? I would feel better leaving you behind with protection."

Sovina shrugged and looked to Emalia, who said, "It wouldn't be disruptive. But I would only accept if Protis wishes to."

"Well?" I asked my Soulborne.

It eyed me, the two women, the ships, then said, "Yes."

I felt a small loss, leaving my creation behind. It was a steady reminder of safety and power, and now, of something more. Like an odd companionship. I was interested in its growth, and something told me that some independence would help that aspect of Protis's mind prosper. "Then stay and watch over them, Protis. Follow their commands as if they were my own." I hesitated, considering adding a hedging command, just in case, but decided against it. I would simply have to trust them not to use my Soulborne against me. "Make sure they feed you."

It grunted, and Sovina snorted, saying, "Any Sorcerers get out of line, sure."

"Animals, I mean." I shook my head and forced myself to step back. "Very well. It's time."

Demetria said, "Be careful and use your wits. You're very clever, the both of you, so there is no excuse for getting into trouble."

Again, Sovina deflected sentimentality with wit, "Very well, Mother."

Demetria smiled. "Yes, yes. Still, stay safe. We shall see each other again soon."

We left them on the docks, watching us set off, the three of them—an odd group, to be certain. One I would miss. Demetria stood close to me as we watched them grow small, then fade from view as the breeze and rhythmic oars pulled us northeast.

"Your closeness surprised me," I said after a long stretch of reflective quiet.

"Come now, they've traveled with us for months. We are friends, my love."

I thought about our time together. About all that has passed. "I forget that, sometimes. All I think about are the ends: the fate of my people, you, Vasia's crimes, others' safety, reaching the isle… I sometimes… forget we're not all pieces on a board."

"And that's your burden, your weakness." She put an arm through mine and leaned on me, her head coming to my shoulder as we watched Novakrayu disappear in the sea's light mist. "Mine was the opposite. It brought on my death." I wished to reassure her with my other hand, then realized it was gone and let the arm hang flat to my side numbly. Instead, I pulled her in more closely. She continued, "It was a kind thing to do: leaving Protis."

"I hope I will not regret it."

"Don't be so grave."

"Yes, I know. Still."

She looked up at me with those beautiful, amethyst eyes. "We'll make it our home. And we'll make it stronger than before. There will be no repetition of the past."

I took in a deep breath, swallowing her words with what resolve and courage I could muster. "You're right. We will."

"Good." She leaned her head back on me. "Now, let's not speak of plots and plans for a little. We've earned a break from machinations and worry."

"A brief one, but yes, you're right."

"A respite is healthy."

I felt sympathy through our bond and tried to relax, expelling that worry and dread with one long exhale. Impossible, of course, considering how those emotions lived in me like a parasite, but worth the effort, perhaps.

"I'm proud of you," she said.

"For what?"

"This. And for letting us handle the negotiation earlier."

"I thought you said no plans?"

She laughed. "I'm merely expressing my appreciation. Hypocrisy should be fine if it is complimentary towards you, no?"

"I suppose I can allow the exception," I replied, chuckling. The amusement slowly faded as I felt something approaching hesitance in our bond. "What is it?"

"It's not a happy conversation, but one I wish to have regardless. And one I think would be good for us."

"Go ahead."

"Tell me of Feia."

"Ah." I was sensitive about the subject for months after, the guilt weighing on me as heavy as any suit of armor. But Demetria was right. It was not right to avoid the subject, for myself, for her, for us. "She was there for me when I was alone after I woke. She stayed with me when everyone else left; when they thought me a monster, she saw my humanity and wished to help. It was one of the few things tethering me, I think. She was passionate, eclectic, nontraditional, and scarred. Like me, in some ways. It was her own trauma that drove her toward the justice I sought, that kept her by my side. And even if we both knew it might get us killed, we were grateful for the companionship."

I paused, offering a moment for questions, but Demetria waited silently for me to continue. So I did. "I imagine, in the end, her fury was what prevented her retreat. Protis told me some of it. The Soulborne feels… guilty. But the choice to fight was hers, even if it was complicated. The Vasians had killed her family, you see, and her newfound one—the mercenary band led by Oskar—well, they abandoned her. And then she thought I was dead, killed by the priest. I understand why she tried to fight, even if I wish she hadn't." I sighed, holding Demetria close, drawing strength from her. "You shouldn't be concerned—"

"I'm not. I just wanted to hear about her. She was important to you." Her voice was soft, sympathetic, and loving. We were beyond most jealousy at this point anyway. "Did you love her?"

"I did not."

"Did she love you?"

"I… I am uncertain. I don't know if she could after what happened to her. I think her heart was closed to it." I paused and reassessed, then pulled away from Demetria and looked into her eyes. "My heart was closed to it ever since I lost you."

"I hope you tried, Daecinus," she whispered, eyes glassy. "I wish you weren't alone."

"I tried but… There was a hole that couldn't be filled. A piece of me cut away as if Corrupted." I swallowed the tremor in my voice. "All I thought of was you."

"That's not true," she said, smiling weakly. "You thought of your people. You wanted to find the truth about them. I'm proud of you for that. And you did well by Pethya, even if you don't think so."

"I could have been more," I said, passion and regret burning in my voice, springing up from the inky shadows of long-buried shame in my heart. "I should have."

"We all should have. But we've been given a second chance—both of us—to do better."

"Yes, we have." I held out my hand, palm up. She took it. "Together, we shall do better."

Demetria tilted her head up and stood on her toes. I leaned down and kissed her. As I pulled back, she smiled and said, "Now, let us try again at lighter talk, shall we?"

"Very well, but you're to blame."

"I know. I know." She smiled out toward the sea. "Something less serious. You could serenade me."

"Me? Sing?"

"You've a talent, my love, even if you don't think so." An idea bloomed in my mind. And in other regions. She noticed immediately—through our bond or otherwise—ever the observant one. "We have a room down below," Demetria said. "Why don't we locate it?"

I smiled, too much of a fool to say something witty, and followed her, glad for a reprieve, finally. Glad for her.