The Flames of Thotus: Dreams

There wasn’t much grass or greenery in Central Handil. The stone and wood swallowed it all. As much as he loved his brother, Termus needed to find time alone, away from the prying eyes and bothering people. He had always loved the green. The smell of the trees and grass carried on the wind, giving him a sense of serenity like nothing else in this world could. He had left the house earlier that day to find a piece of that tranquility, leaving all of his concerns back at Frank’s mansion.

There was a park, of course. He had heard that every great city has a park. A place where the sea of green sprawled and the underbrush flourished. Where the insects buzzed about their short, busy lives. But he also knew of the people that would visit. The constant hum of chatter, the footsteps against the cobblestone paths. He knew he’d find no peace there. But he did know of another place. A small hill in the northern part of the Noble’s District. He felt like this place was his own.

So he found himself sitting against the trunk of the one tree that sat atop the hill, a small cherry-oak, its pink and red petals swaying lightly in the breeze. Even sitting down, he could still see the whole upper district from this one hill. Its brown, slanted rooftops and the stone and wooden walls of its houses. Occasionally, a horse-driven carriage would pass through the open stone streets, but at this time of day, most of the nobles were off to the central heart of the city, the Legion headquarters, earning their meals and houses, trading their time for a bit more gold.

As relaxed as he should have been, he couldn’t shake the thought of what had transpired earlier. Tomorrow, they would all be officers. Something about that was unsettling to him. He had trained for a very long time, most of his life with Frank, actually. All for this day. The inauguration would be held tomorrow at the headquarters and after they said their oaths and pledged their lives, there was no looking back.

He might have been okay with the uncertainty of it all, had it not been for the fact that his brother was wrapped up in all of this as well. He had dreamed of this day for a long time, his brother and him swearing their oaths and taking their first real step toward greatness. And they were doing it together. So why did he feel so dreadful? Was it because they were heading into a war? They would be safe with the commanders, far away from the actual fighting, he kept telling himself. This is just a training exercise for them.

The large stone walls of the city seemed to be closing in on him as the sun began setting and the yellow haze of Thenoax’s Ring shimmered across the sky. Had he been there that long that it was almost sunset already? He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wanted to stay just a few minutes longer.

He tried over and over again to shift his thoughts to something more positive but they always kept swaying back to his brother. How they would dance in between crowds of sellers and buyers in the Mercantile District, sliding their fingers into whoever had the fattest pockets. They had gotten very good at pickpocketing during their orphaned years. Gnove was always better, of course. Termus never did grasp the art of stealth. As much as he hated admitting, that was one thing his brother had always beaten him at.

But sooner or later, they would get caught. They always got caught eventually. Luckily, no one gave enough of a thought to two homeless orphan boys to even bother punishing them, so they were always let go with a warning. This hill is where they would sleep when it was warm out. They never had to worry about criminals or busy merchants in this district. They could grab a few blankets and steal some apples and be set for a night or two. He can't even remember one night that he would dream while under this tree with his brother. A coincidence, most likely, but still. He never felt more at peace than those dreamless nights under the cherry-oak.

As grateful as Termus was to his foster father, sometimes he missed those days. The days were dirty and the nights were restless sometimes, but he missed the freedom. When people weren’t bothering them or chasing them for stealing their goods, he always felt like he had a home, a place to come back to, even when he really didn’t.

Termus stood up and folded his old, tattered blanket under his arm and descended the hill, making his way back through the rustic streets. He always knew how to get home thanks to the large painted tower that Frank had built off his mansion after his promotion.

__________

He went to bed hungry that night, hoping his empty stomach would cause him to dream about food instead. He knew that wasn't going to happen, but he held out hope. He woke up the next day feeling refreshed. At least he didn't dream at all last night, so maybe it worked...

Frank was downstairs, sitting at the table as usual, writing on a piece of parchment, a mountain of rolled letters piled next to him. “We will be heading to the inauguration together today,” he said, setting his quill aside and watching Termus walk down the stairs. Frank looked more distinguished than ever. An acutely embroidered Councilor robe with a small golden Legion sigil pinned proudly over his heart. His hood was down, revealing Frank’s neatly combed white hair, how thick and full it once looked, now thinning and showing the beginning signs of frailty. Despite his hair, the man still stood strong and proud, boldly trudging through his later years.

“You look marvelous!” Frank said as he walked over to Termus and clasped both hands on his shoulders, looking him up and down. The undergarments of his outfit, a shining white, silk tunic and dark gold slacks, fitted perfectly to house the officer armor above it. Despite his worries the night before, he couldn’t help but feel proud. He had made it so far in the last few years thanks to Frank’s support and whatever struggles come on the path ahead, he would not let his father down.

He heard a loud yawn from the study and the crackling of wooden floorboards. Gnove walked into the dining hall, tired-eyed and messy-haired. He wore the same outfit as his brother but it looked…off somehow.

“No, no…” Frank said, spinning around. “You have the damn shirt on backwards.”

Gnove rubbed his eyes and grunted slightly before sliding his arms back through the sleeves and twisting his shirt around. “Better?” he said contumeliously as he slung himself in the chair.

“You boys need to be perfect for today. Not many people get to visit the inside of the headquarters. It’s beautifully decorated, strongly guarded, and boasts elegance like no other.”

Termus had heard stories before about what it looked like inside but he had only seen its extravagant exterior with his own eyes. Who couldn’t notice it when its monstrously tall towers reach toward the sky and could be viewed from almost all eight of the districts in Central Handil? He had heard that each tower had a lookout on which one could view the entire city and the vast reaches of plains that spanned the horizon beyond. It was said to be a view that was second only to the high peak of Cedar Point, on the southern tip of the continent.

They had their breakfast of cooked chicken eggs and carrots and off they went. Loading their armor and a few stocks of bread for later, they mounted the carriage reigns onto the horses and climbed into their painted wooden seats in the back, Frank controlling the reigns in the front. Gnove had fallen back asleep, as expected, but Termus’ eyes couldn’t close, even if he wanted them to. A tired sun dragged its way lethargically across the morning sky, hiding the Ring behind rays of sunlight.

“You kids were the closest thing I’ve ever had to real children.” Frank never took his eyes off the stone streets ahead of him as they passed by mansion after mansion. “If you want to hear the truth of it, I never actually wanted children before.”

Termus sat up curiously in his seat.

“I know I don’t like talking about my wife. Still pains to me to this day to even think about her. But you two are almost men now and soon you’ll be off on assignment. Who knows the next time I’ll get to talk to you like this.”

A fact so easily forgotten, that Frank had a wife. He rarely mentioned her. And when he did, it was always in passing. Usually a topic best avoided as Frank would get this pained look in his eyes whenever he spent more than a single thought on her. Termus didn’t even know her name. All he knew was that his wife had died. He had never thought to ask how or why, or even when. Of course, he had always wanted to know. But wanting and asking are two different things entirely.

“She wore a scarlet hat most of the time. Gods, she was beautiful back in her day. The pride of her family, they called her. The prized daughter of a nobleman I knew from back when. Every boy for a hundred miles would have her as their dream every night. Noble men, poor men, the strong men, the weak. All lining up to be her new suitor. A prestigious name, a rich family, a silent beauty, men would have killed for her.”

He snapped the reigns and the horse turned at the fork, leading toward the district gates. “And she was all mine,” he said. “There was no words to describe how happy I was. I was terrible at the courtship, mind you.” Frank let a small, fond smile leak out from his lips. “I had no idea what I was doing. I would make blunders left and right, I would insult her without even knowing. It was a wonder that she didn’t throw me out to the cobblestone. But she didn’t though…no…she liked my blunders, the oaf I was. She would always just laugh coyly and fall lovingly into my arms.”

Termus’ words stuck in his throat and he hesitated for what felt like hours before saying them. “What happened to her…?”

Frank gripped the reigns tightly, crackling the leather underneath his knuckles. “She died,” he said. Then he paused.

Such a long pause, Termus wondered if he would ever continue.

“No…” Frank finally said. “That’s not true. I killed her.”

Termus sat, hands in his lap, staring out at the passing houses. “Frank…you don’t need to tell me this if you don’t want...”

The horse slowed down as they approached two giant iron gates, each menacingly shadowing the carriage in dark.

“Halt,” a guard said. He walked over to the carriage, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Who passes?” As the guard approached, Termus saw his eyes drop to Frank’s pinned chest. He quickly let go of his hilt and crossed his arms across his chest and dropped to one knee. “I’m sorry, Councilor, I didn’t realize is was you.”

Frank nodded. “Continue your post, sir.”

The man turned and waved to the other stationed guard, who ran to a giant wheel mounted to the wall. Termus heard the cranking of the wheel and the large gates shrieked ominously as they parted. And before long, he was inside the heart of Central Handil again, where only Legion military members were allowed. He had always came here to go to the academy but everything was so regulated and guarded here that he had never been allowed to take in all the grandeur of the rest of the district.

“I always told her I never wanted children,” Frank said abruptly. “She would always try to push them on me and bring them up but I never wanted it. We came close…once. The day she told me was the happiest day of her life. She had gotten everything prepared and made a special dinner for me when I came home from headquarters that day.”

Frank paused. “It’s strange, I can’t even remember how she did her hair that day, or if she was wearing her scarlet hat or not. Or what color dress she wore. Hell, I can’t even remember what she even made me for supper. But the one thing I won’t forget is that horrified look on her face when she realized that I didn’t want her child. I tried telling her, ‘Please, I want you. Just because I don’t want children does not mean that I don’t want you…’ but nothing I said could have made her feel better.

“She had always known I didn’t want them, but I guess she just hoped that if she gave one to me, and I saw it, held it in my arms, it would change my mind.”

Termus noticed Frank tighten his grip on the reigns and squeeze his eyes closed. Was he crying?

“I tried talking to her…saying…something to her. But what was I even going to say? She was carrying now so like it or not, I would have to be prepared to share this burden with her. I was in the study, trying to calm my mind when I heard a shriek from upstairs. It was haunting, that shriek. Like a demon. I rushed up to the bedroom to find the floor soaked in blood and her lying in bed with her legs up, the hilt of a dagger sticking out of her…”

Termus looked away, trying to picture the scene but he could only cringe. “She was killing the baby…”

“Every time I close my eyes, even now, I can still see her lying in my bed, soaking the sheets in red. ‘You’re right,’ she kept saying. I pulled the dagger out of her slowly, and carried her to my carriage. The whole ride to the medicinal alchemist, she just kept saying it over and over. ‘You’re right…you’re right.’”

Termus had no idea what to say to Frank. Why was he telling him this now, of all times? A day that we’re supposed to become proud and accomplished Legion officers.

“There was…” he said slowly. “Complications. She never made it out of the alchemist’s that day. Too much internal damage, I guess.” Frank looked over at Termus, red eyed and puffy faced, tears gliding down into his short white beard. “It was my fault...I knew she had been a little off for the past few years but I just assumed it would pass.”

They pulled up to the Legion headquarters, Gnove still asleep in the back seat. “I do my best to honor her memory now,” Frank said, letting go of the reigns and turning to look at Termus. “I wanted to make sure she got her wish. I adopted you two and made sure you were well provided for, raised you as my own, set you boys in the right direction, all for her. And you know what the worst part is…?”

Termus shook his head slowly as Gnove began to stir.

“Raising children was more rewarding than I could have ever imagined. If I was only to realize that before…”

Gnove sat up, grunting and yawning quietly. Frank hopped off the seat and reached an arm out for Termus to get off. “And now here we are,” he said. “Nine years later, about to see my boys off to become men. A father couldn’t be happier.”

“What?” Gnove said, climbing sloppily off the carriage.

“Nothing,” Frank said. “Let me help you off before you break something.”

He clasped both the boys shoulders and pulled them close. “I know you will both make me proud in there. Now go on, grab your armor, suit up before you walk in and make sure you both pay attention.” He looked over to Gnove. “That means no sleeping, got it?”

Gnove nodded.

__________

The room was larger than Termus expected. The grand hall was decorated. Everything from the stained glass panels on the windows to the golden plated pillars standing strong against the tan walls. The boys had just finished fitting their armor on, a heavy layer of polished and painted metal for each of them. He never really understood why he had to wear the armor for the ceremony today. It wasn’t like they were going into battle or anything. But tradition is tradition, he supposed. He took his seat next to the other recruits, scanning the group for Dunham's hulking body.

He felt Gnove nudge him with his elbow. Termus looked over to his brother and saw him gaping up the ceiling, mouth wide in awe. He looked up as well and saw a beautifully painted mural on the rounded ceiling. A large painting hovered above of a naked man holding a beautifully colored yellow gem in one hand and an apple in the other. Each color of the canvas was bathed in candlelight, softly flickering a dancing reflection. But the gem gleamed larger than any other piece. Is that a real gemstone up there?

An echoing voice pulled his eyes back down toward the front of the room. A hooded Councilor spoke before a large elevated round table. “And here we gather, brothers and sisters. Men and women in white. We bring to you today a blessing from the divines themselves. Let the Gods of Handi, Irisia and Shade bear witness to our gathering and bestow a blessing to each of you in this room. I am Valdt, seat two of the Legion Councilors and on this day, we welcome and count seventeen new members among our elite.”

“Where is Dunham?” Termus said, leaning over to his brother.

“I don’t know,” Gnove said in a hushed voice, pausing for a minute. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see him at the briefing either.”

“He knew he was selected to become an officer. Is he really going to miss his own inauguration?” Termus had never known Dunham to miss anything important to him. Sure, he’d be late, sometimes very late depending on the situation. But not like this. If he didn’t give up after three years of trying and failing to pass the academy, why would he miss this now that he finally passed? Valdt droned on in the front of the room but he was no longer listening.

His brother gave him a worried look. “Do you think it had to do with what his mother was going to talk to him about?”

Of course, the letter. “It must have been important for him to miss this…”

The screeching of chairs yanked Termus’ attention back to the front of the room. All nine of the Councilors had walked out and were pulling their chairs from the table. All but Valdt, who descended the small staircase to the empty center of the room, where a row of chairs were lined and a small stand at the end sat, bearing a large bowl. He picked up the bowl and began speaking again.

“Recruits, bring yourself down here and become one with the Legion.”

The grinding of chairs echoed as they all stood up, walking in a uniform line to the center of the room. Termus could feel all of these powerful eyes on him. These men and women of such prestige and honor. Facing the Councilor’s table, he scanned the front to see where Frank was sitting. But their hoods covered their faces, each a clone of one another, an insurmountable force of uniformity.

The room was silent, save for the footsteps of Valdt walking back and forth between the recruits. “Salute and hold!” he yelled. They all crossed their arms across their chest promptly and bowed their heads. “Say the words.”

They chanted the words in unison. “Handi, Irisia, Shade, take heed to my vow. We offer to you our hearts so that you may do with them as you see fit. We vow to serve and protect, with glory and dignity, this Great Handilian Province. If we should fall, let us fall together. If we should fail, let us fail together, and if we should succeed, let us raise our swords high, conquer all, and share in prosperity, together.”

“For glory, with dignity,” Valdt said.

“For glory, with dignity,” The group recited back.

Termus sat in his chair in the center of the room, his brother sloppily falling into his. He gave Gnove a dirty look before quickly bowing his head.

“We bless you with our grace, as Councilors of this great Legion, so that you may carry our courage, our valor and our wisdom into battle.”

Termus stifled a snigger. They’re pretentious pricks, aren’t they?

Valdt walked from left to right with his bowl, reaching in and sprinkling a pinch of gold dust on each of the new recruits. Termus could hear his brother trying not to laugh next to him when the golden dust fell on him, squirming his body around, shaking the golden powder off of his neck. Can Gnove at least act like he’s being serious for once?

After he had finished with every recruit, he took a step back and gave a satisfied smile. “You sat soldiers, now stand as Legion elites.”

The officers stood. Termus wanted nothing more than to shake the damn powder off of his neck. It was beginning to tickle him as some fell down his back, underneath his now sweaty armor. How he wished he could have taken the damn thing off already.

A Legion Councilor stood up from the end of the table, grabbing an ornately decorated container and carried it down the stairs with some real effort. He looked hunched over, Termus noticed. Easily in his later years, yet he had stood from Seat One. Was he the head of the Councilors? As he approached the new officers, Termus noticed a face peering out from his hood. It wasn’t a normal looking face, however. From what he could see, it wasn’t even human. It had a snout. Who the hell is this?

The snout nosed man stood in front of the new officers and set the container on the ground. And then it spoke, in a muffled, doused voice. “Welcome, all of you. I am Councilor Nex, head of the Legion Councilors and Seat One of the Great Handilian Province.”

It was a mask. It had black painted, fur-like textures with a snout sticking four inches from the hood. It looked like the head of a blackwolf, but had golden eyes and bore ravenous, uneven teeth. Termus knew every other officer was staring with the same fearful expression as he was. This is the head of the Legion? This man is in charge of all eight provinces?

“Such a grand title deserves a grand gift,” Nex said. “Each of you will receive two, actually. A badge and a gun.”

Termus had read about guns before. They were designed for firing a small projectile using an explosion inside them. He had never seen one up close but he had heard them firing from a training yard a few buildings down from the academy. They were a newer technology and were reserved only for the elite.

Blackwolf Nex reached into the container and grabbed a handful of badges and began handing them out to each of the officers. Termus grabbed his and quickly shoved it in his pocket, more excited to see this gun. After which, the blackwolf picked the entire container up and walked around, handing each a small silver pistol. “Now, you will get together with your commanding officers when you reach our Nagerian outpost and they will show you how to use them but you are not to bring this onto any battlefield yet. Not until you have mastered the art of gunplay.”

Termus received his in the holster, took it out and immediately began examining it. The body was no larger than the size of his hand, but the barrel extended far beyond that. It had a large, circular mechanism in the middle which he assumed were where the projectiles would go. They had a name, but he couldn’t quite remember what they called those little black pellets. He gripped his fingers around the base, and it immediately felt comfortable. His finger easily wrapped the trigger, and he noticed it pulled very smoothly. He had never seen the power of a gun before, but he had read about it. It’s believed to sometimes be better than swords. He didn’t know if he bought into all that, though. This tiny thing, better than a sword? No way. Even still, he wanted to try it for himself.

“Those things are not toys,” Nex said after emptying his container. “Never aim them at a comrade, just as you would never point your sword at them. They are deadly from a distance.”

He placed the container on the stand next to the empty powder bowl and ascended the stairs back to his table. “There aren’t many of those the province. It's a new design. More durable and accurate than its predecessors. Use it with care and never let your enemies take it from you, lest they learn our secrets in making them.”

Termus heard a whisper in his ear. “What does predecessors mean?”

“It means what came before it, idiot,” he said, smirking at his brother. Gnove opened his mouth in shock and smacked him in the arm.

“At least I know the difference between hogleaf and wormswood.”

Termus scoffed lightly. “Don’t be petulant,” he said, knowing full well that his brother didn’t know the meaning of that word either.

He thought of Dunham again, wondering why he had not shown up to the ceremony. “Do you think we should head over to Dunham’s house after we’re done here?”

Gnove looked a bit worried too. “That might be a good idea.”

__________

The ceremony finished quickly, and the elites of the Legion held a large banquet after clearing the chairs and golden powder from the floor of the main hall. It was spectacular. Termus wanted nothing more than to leave and find his friend, but he had to observe the courtesies first, so he quickly tasted some of the pig belly roast and the sweetrolled cocoa tart, wrote his and Gnove’s name on the registration ledger, and said his courtesies to the high officers and the Councilors. They didn’t even bother looking for Frank through the sea of crowded people gathered around the feasting table. He grabbed his brothers arm and pulled him out of the crowd.

“We should go,” Termus said. “Quit stuffing your face.”

“But the lemon pie is so good,” Gnove said between gluttonous chews of food.

“Come on, I’m worried about Dunham.”

He yanked his brother’s hand and they made their way to the door. “Can you open the door, please?” Termus said to the guard.

“Of course, sir! At once,” he said.

Sir. He wasn’t used to being called sir. He did like the sound of it though. He smiled stupidly and walked through the door.

__________

The waves of heat were almost unbearable as they made their way to the slums on the western outskirts of the city. Dunham had never been particularly poor, but his family never made enough trying to sell their weapons and armor to move out of the slums. They had been from a little village on the western banks of the Siniper River. He grew up a lot different than Termus and Gnove, who have only ever seen the outside of the city a handful of times. Dunham was an Irisian. Their gods were different, their foods were different, even their buildings were different. Dunham was never particularly religious but from where he was from, they worshipped Irisia, and followed the Path of War. Termus never really understood how someone could believe that war was good for the world but a different place, a different custom, he guessed.

After trudging through muddy streets for what felt like hours, he reached the better part of the slums, if one could call it that…The houses looked like decay, even the stone was rotting off the walls. The streets were all damp, smelling of shit and musk. He could hear children yelling and playing about, some dashing in and out of small alleyways. He hated having to come here sometimes. The people seemed untrustworthy, the streets and crevasses dark and riddled with dirty secrets, the rats skittering about. He knew it all too well. But it wasn’t the smell or the sights, or secrets that made him cringe. It was the fact that he lived this once.

As disgusting as it was, Termus felt right at home anytime he walked these streets. He didn’t know if he should feel proud of it or ashamed by it but either way, it always brought back memories no matter how hard he fought them. Memories of an unsure time, memories that he wasn’t even positive he wanted to relive.

He passed a corner and the house came into view. A small, one floor stone cottage with a straw roof, all but looking like the straw was falling off. On the tip of the roof, a marble nine-pointed star shone in the sunlight. The Star of Irisia. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, but every time he would visit, it always amazed him how different and rugged the Irisians lived.

They approached the door and could hear metal clanging in the backyard. “What is that?” Gnove asked.

“It sounds like fighting,” Termus said, walking across the small front lawn to see if he could peer around the back. A large stone wall fenced in the back area of the house. He could hear grunting from over that wall, but no yelling or screaming.

“Dunham, is that you?”

A gruff voice called back over the wall. “Who the hell is it?”

“It’s Termus.”

The frantic smashing of metal didn’t stop, in fact it seemed to get louder, but he heard no reply. He walked back to the door, his brother looking at him confused.

“Something is bothering him,” Termus said.

The door swung open quickly and a stocky looking woman stood towering in the doorway. “Oh, Termus, Gnove. Look at ye. You’ve grown since the last time we saws ya. And that armor, what fine men you’ve become."

“Miss Verenti, we came to see Dunham. He missed the ceremony.”

His mother’s eyes were bloodshot, her face distorted and puffy. Nonetheless, she smiled meekly and stepped aside to let the boys in. “Dunham said the inauguration was cancelled for today…”

“No, we just got back from it…We were worried that something had happened to him.”

She closed the door behind them and immediately sat down. Their house was a mess. Piles of ragged clothes lying about, weapons scattered haphazardly across the floor. What had happened? The dingy smell of musk coated the inside of Termus’ throat. Made him feel like he needed to cough it all out.

She turned toward the rear entrance to the hut and yelled louder than Termus thought anyone could. “DUNHAM, GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!”

There was a few more metal clanks in the backyard and the door swung open violently. “What, mum?” he yelled. His burly body slugged heavily through the small door and slammed it closed behind him. As he walked into the light, Termus saw his old friend, looking more disheveled than ever. His shirt was dirty, his pants were ripped, his greasy hair matted to the side of his face. He looked like he just got done killing something.

“The boys here tell me that they just got done with their inauguration ceremony, yet you told me yesterday that it was cancelled.”

Dunham flung around, swung the door open again and slammed it behind him, disappearing into the backyard. His mother looked like she was about to cry again…

Termus immediately followed Dunham into the backyard, throwing the door open again and stomping down the back stairs. Dunham was picking up his hammer in the grass, ready to smash it against the straw dummy when Termus grabbed his arm and stopped. “What the hell is your problem?”

Dunham grunted violently and ripped his arm away. “Leave me be.”

“Your mother’s right. Why did you lie to her? You spent three years waiting for that ceremony, failing over and over. And now that you have it, you’re just going to…what? Give up?”

Dunham yanked up his hammer and hoisted it high above his head, staring down Termus. “I said leave me be.”

Termus felt a wave of fear, but stood his ground nonetheless. He wouldn’t dare…would he?

Dunham held his hammer high, his body shaking from anger. Or was it distress? Termus couldn’t tell.

“They killed him,” he said in a hushed voice. He shook more, sweat beading down his face.

“What?” Termus said, inching himself over to Dunham and reaching his hand out.

“He’s gone.” Dunham dropped the hammer and collapsed to the ground. “I’ll never get to see him again…”

“Who’s gone? Dunham, what happened?”

“I came home few days ago,” he said in a shaken voice. “Mum told me what was in that letter. There was an…incident. Me father was at a tavern in some village in the south. It was his day off. He was supposed to be visiting our home town, Archbaldt on assignment from headquarters. He drinks too much, he’s always drinkin’ too much. His guards were posted outside, of course but ye know how us southerners are. Always drunk, the lot of us…And then it happened. This group of hooded guys barged in all violent-like, killin’ every last one in that tavern.”

Termus could feel him fighting back his tears, trying to bury his pain under his rugged exterior.

“Accordin’ to the letter, they were after him. Not no one else in there, just him. Women, children, the whole lot of them. Butchered. And when they found him…” He paused, gripping his fingers through the dirt so hard he could swear Dunham was going to rip off his fingernails.

“Do you know what they did to him?” he said.

Termus remained silent but shook his head slightly, even though Dunham wasn’t watching.

“They peeled off all his skin, from the waist down,” he said through gritted teeth. “They kept him alive while they was doin’ it. Then they carved some strange symbol into his chest. One person escaped and told the city guard. They said they could hear the screamin’ clear across town.” Dunham’s voice grew unstable, grinding his teeth together and breathing very heavily.

“Me own father’s screaming. They didn’t even have the DECENCY…” his words became more and more violent. “to kill him when it was all said and done. They left right after and me father…he never made it to the medical tent.”

Termus wanted to comfort him. Wanted to say anything he could. He had known Dunham’s father. Spent hours playing and training in his backyard. Spent a large portion of his life here, actually. To think him dead…the finality of him never returning home, it wasn’t something Termus could even wrap his mind around. He didn't know what to even say.

Duham finally looked up, and Termus saw something there that wasn’t there before. It wasn’t tears. His eyes were as dry as sand. But something…else. Something scary. “I’ll kill them. Whoever they are, hear my words, Irisia, or whatever fucking god that’s out there. I will kill…them…all…”