Ashes of Eden

The back of the city was a large camping zone, either for mercenary bands or slavers and other shady characters into some illicit business. Eric guided Nadia towards the large factions without banners. He knew those belonged to slavers. Nadia didn't ask how he knew and Eric kept fighting to ignore his newfound knowledge of Eden. One banner caught his attention, a flag with a red blood eye. His eyes squinted as a light throbbing started at the back of his skull. Eric shut his eyes and shook his head once, staying on track. They needed to find Amilcar and his operation.

Some slave companies had their people kneeling, their hands bound with rope and their feet in shackles. People with snobby clothes trailed along the rows, turning their heads with searching eyes. They're buyers, a whisper told him.

"I need tough ones. My mining party was seriously reduced..." Eric heard a blond man explain with an irritable sigh. "...had to kill them..." He heard in a rushed hissed. Eric thought he heard the words 'damned Dybbuks'.

Eric's heart tugged. That kid... Eric didn't care that he'd gotten possessed, he still felt sick for not stepping in and help. A rush of anger grew, seemingly coming from nowhere, as a man yelled at another child. The man was large, built like a bear, and he'd tugged on the girl's arm with enough force to dislocate her shoulder. He saw the man was yelling, could imagine the spittle hit the girl's cheeks…

"Eric, don't." Nadia warned. He could hear the barely contained rage in her voice, though. "We have someone else to help." Eric wished he could prioritize like she could.

Heaving a long breath, Eric walked on, doing his best to muffle the small sobs pounding at his ears. Carter had always calmed him down when he cried. Every time he woke up in hysterics, Carter would be there. Everything would quiet inside of him and he wouldn't feel cold or alone, like in his nightmares. So far, this place seemed damaging to the children living in it. It made his fists clench.

Nadia patted his hip. He looked down, following her gaze. People were finishing setting up quadrangular-shaped tents and beyond them, Eric spotted what Nadia's keen eye had. Two carriages with thick wooden bars, trapping people like one would exotic birds. They went closer and Eric busied himself with memorizing the layout of the camps, land and how far they were from their tavern. He thought he could make it here in twenty minutes walking fast…

Hooves pounded the solid ground, causing a subtle rumble beneath Eric's feet. With a small tilt of his head, he saw a man in chainmail and plate armor, same as a knight from a history book or an epic fantasy movie Carter loved. The large animal racing across the multiple rows of tents nearly trampled a group of two children and a man, said man fell on his back. The horse wasn't the exact same as the ones back on Earth. He hadn't seen the mounting animal from the front before, when the slavers marched past their cave. This horse had flat ears, nearly impossible to see because of the long mane of hair and, jutting from its head, were two longish spiraling horns. The animal whined, slowing down, coming to a final stop. Its entire body was gray, its mane was darker. The armored man dismounted with practiced ease. He proceeded to wrench the lightly tinted red helmet, stashing it in one of the saddlebags on his horse.

The loss of the metal mask revealed a dirty blond-haired guy, possibly older than Carter, with a scar running across his forehead and the top of his right cheek. The man's hair was plastered with sweat. He wiped a gloved palm across the equally blondish beard before being met by a bald man with a long goatee. He reminded Eric of a Viking.

"Captain Ragnos," the older man began formerly. Eric felt Nadia stare at him, telepathically whispering: we've heard this name before. "I wasn't expecting you. I can assure you, sir, all of these scums are..."

"I am not here to evaluate where your new batch of slaves came from, man. I am here for a specific purpose. I have come searching for Fae folk." The bald man's face drained of gripping fear. He wouldn't get punished today, Eric guessed. "Have you got any?"

"I don't believe so, sir." The slaver—probably Amilcar—watched as the Captain went around him, peeking into the wooden cages. "I—there is that one! He has a strange color of hair..." It didn't take a rocket scientist to know Amilcar meant their Earthly friend.

Ragnos pointed at the ginger guy, causing the boy's eyes to enlarge.

"You there, with the strange attire. Are you Fae, boy?"

The ginger lifted a hand exposing a thick leather bracelet and... Eric thought he caught ink below the hoodie's sleeve. The ginger incognito pointed at himself for a second, then did nothing.

"...what?" he responded, voice cracked, after staring at the armored man for eons.

"Show me your ears." The ginger blinked, then tucked the curly hair away, showing his normally sized ears. Ragnos, sighed. "Not an Elf, then. Your entire lot is of no use, Amilcar."

The slaver tubbed his shiny head.

"I apologize, Captain. I never dabble in capturing—I mean, taking in stray Fae." He and Nadia shared a look. Did Amilcar think anyone believed these people were strays he'd kindly 'taken in'? Sure, if taking someone in meant throwing them into a cage against their will to be sold at a later date.

Ragnos rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. Eric saw the pommel consisted of a circle, hollow in the middle, bathed in gold. "What of smugglers?"

"I heard there were some coming from Ebbe with Fairies, but they lost their whole lot! Jumped in the night, was what I heard, sir."

Nadia sniggered beside him. Eric elbowed her shoulder, keeping a neutral expression. All he wanted was to laugh his ass off. It was good to know their early adventures in Eden were gossip worthy.

Ragnos' lip tilted upward.

"Indeed? Well, it seems that some do-gooders are helping Phaedra's guard." Then the Captain snorted. "Or bandits are getting bolder, trading Loron for Ebbe territory."

"Captain," a man with little armor, only padded leather, came from the side of the mercenary camps. His loud voice made Eric think he'd been drinking in his spare time. "How is our most illustrious King?"

Ragnos seemed to indulge the mercenary only because ignoring people would be rude. Eric wondered if he was a nobleman. From what he remembered, many high-ranking generals had been born to wealthy families.

"I am not here on his Kinship's behalf. I am on a mission as an envoy for the Union. Bracha has received many distressed people since the increase of Dybbuk possessions. It has been decided that the Hollow Scourge cannot be allowed to continue, and so, the Union has sent me in search for a weapon that can be used against the evil spirits."

"The Union. Of course! Our King would never bother with such problems, evil spirits that drive his people mad are beyond..."

Ragnos pulled out his sword in a show of power, Eric noted. The armored man guided the tip below the merc's chin, pushing into his throat, cutting off the mockery. A ribbon of blood trickled down the mercenary's Adam's apple.

"I am still at the service of King Emyr and speaking ill of our King will earn you incarceration at Agnar's fortress. They have quite the taste for battle and blood. I am certain they would enjoy new scraps such as yourself." The man's mouth twitched in silent rebellion but didn't utter a word. "Get out of my sight."

The merc backed up, rubbing a hand underneath his chin, wiping the small trail of blood. Ragnos sheathed his sword with a serene face. Turning around, he caught them staring. Nadia's shoulders arched, her right one bumping into Eric's arm. He raised an eyebrow.

"My apologies for startling you, miss." Eric guessed he hadn't startled her, Nadia was just taking stock of his face. Eric gave an eye roll. "Amilcar," Ragnos tore his eyes from them—from Nadia. "I will be staying at the Hound Inn for three moons, please inform me if any smugglers arrive." With that said, he walked back to his two-horned horse and dug around a satchel. He tossed a pouch at the man. Eric saw the symbol was a bird of some sort, with the colors of ash and red.

The man took the reins to his horse, strolling past them. Just before the Captain was out of sight, Eric sent him a quick glare. Ragnos surprised him by doing the same. Eric felt a growl build at Ragnos' domineering gaze. Eric broke their eye-match once Nadia brushed against his side. He allowed a triumphal smirk to grace his features.

Nadia eyed him, skeptical. "What's that look for?"

"What look?"

"It looks like you won the lottery." He wiped the smirk off his face faster than a lightning strike. "You're so weird..." She said with exasperation.

Amilcar was approached by other buyers. Eric kept a close eye on the ginger kid as they rounded the wooden cages. They eased into mercenary territory which made Eric feel a little weird. The banners, the comradery, the smell of steel, sweat and blood. It felt almost reminiscent. While the slaver camps brought him irritation and nausea. Focus, he chanted.

"We can come at night?" He suggested.

"We still need food."

"Exactly. We ask our sponsor for whatever we can stuff into our bags, retire for the night and wait until it gets dark. This place probably works well at night, especially the taverns and brothels. There will be less people guarding the camps."

"Wow, Eric. That's surprisingly clever." Eric huffed. "And we get to keep the feather!" Nadia whispered, grinning like a mischievous cat. Eric snorted at her sudden burst of happiness.

***

The tavern keeper—Bronson—arranged for them to sleep in an old, unused stable located among several small houses, north in the city. They would have to walk almost twice as much to reach Amilcar's camp. Nadia asked him for large portions of food before they left the tavern to be shown to their humble abode. Bronson gave her a snide eye but had given into Nadia's coercion. How much was the damn feather worth?

"Oi," Eric twisted around before Bronson touched his arm. The man looked frightened for a second, until Eric merely cocked an eyebrow down at him. "I couldn't get ya' a vest like yer' woman wanted, but I scavenged this cloak. Think it'll fit ya' just fine."

Eric caught the tossed bundle. He shook the black fabric about, admiring the large thing. It had tears that looked a lot like stab wounds. If there were stains he couldn't spot any, the thing was pitch black. It smelled of sweat more than anything else, which he was glad for. He rolled up the cloak, throwing it over a shoulder.

"It'll work. Thanks." Eric's curt words put Bronson on edge again. If everyone was as scared of him as this guy, breaking out Ginger Ale would be breezy. Eric would just stare down the guard dogs while Nadia broke the lock.

At the small stable Nadia shoved past him. Bronson was gone, and their charade got dropped. There were hints of hay, but they were scarce.

"I guess we're sleeping on the ground. Again." He threw his cloak onto a cubicle door hanging at an awkward angle. "Or not, since we won't be getting any shuteye."

Nadia found a place at the far end of the small space to sit. Eric groaned under his breath. What had he done to piss her off now? Unable to let things go, he marched over to where she was sitting, back braced against a wooden wall. He nudged her foot with his. Nadia stubbornly kept her head down.

Eric waited for a minute, his arms crossed, the newly acquired muscles bulging making him feel out of place in his own body.

"Okay, I'll bite. What did I do to deserve the silent treatment?" Eric hated to admit that talking to her—even if it was through banter—helped with pushing Carter's absence to the back of his mind.

Strawberry strands flicked away when Nadia exhaled massively, rubbing her forehead. Eric noticed how pale she looked. It happened in an instant, he was on his knees beside her. Eric didn't make a move to touch her, knowing she probably wouldn't appreciate it.

"I felt dizzy all of a sudden." She whispered, eyes still shut. "The room started spinning... My eyes are stinging."

"Maybe you need to eat something—" Nadia grasped his bicep. Her fingers felt small against the bulge. Eric's eyes flickered to hers.

"I saw one of those things again—a Dybbuk. It faded out after a couple of seconds, but I saw it." Eric settled against the wall, same as her. The images of that woman in Callibur would follow him forever, but Nadia's deathly scared eyes... They didn't suit someone as fiery as her. "What if there is more than one?"

Eric could see how hard she was trying not to shake. He cursed inwardly. This girl was terrified of ghosts and she got to see them. Wonderful, just fun-fucking-tastic. Eric hesitatingly reached out for her fingers, still gripping his arm. Nadia allowed him to coax them into letting go, then, Eric held them. He could feel small scars on her knuckles and it amazed him. Girls usually freaked when guys perceived imperfections. He never understood the vanity of it all—make-up, covering up zits, hating being seen with braces—then again, maybe those things were embarrassing for other people like reading aloud was for him. Anyway, Nadia wasn't like most girls. She felt him trace a thumb across a bigger scar near the ebbing of her thumb and did nothing to stop him.

"I'm scared of those things too." His travel companion chewed her bottom lip. "But we have someone to help, right? That's why we came all the way here. What did Fi say about Dybbuk?"

Nadia's pale gaze fell on their fingers.

"That they... That they don't go for healthy people. Fi said the Dybbuk only tried to possess you because you interrupted it." Ah, that was good to know. "And he said something about having strong spirits? I don't remember." She looked like she was in pain. Nadia suddenly shutting her eyes proved him right.

"Did your eyes hurt this badly before?" She shook her head. Eric's jaw tightened. His fingers squeezed hers. But holding her hand wasn't enough, he realized, he wanted to help Nadia. He wanted to take her pain—he just wasn't good at this, not like... not like his brother. Nadia's nails carved into the palm of his hand. "Do you want to... to wash your face?" Maybe it would help with the stinging.

He watched, helplessly, as Nadia opened her eyes inches and tears—blood tears—rained down her cheeks.

"Fuck!" His free hand reached out, wiping below her right eye, then her left.

"Eric," her pulse was increasing, he felt it in her fucking wrist. Eric waited for Nadia to say something else. Nadia didn't. She went strangely limp, staring right at him and staring right through him. It was agonizing.

She looked like a lifeless overgrown doll.

"Nadia?" No response. "Shit." He tried shaking her. She remained in an unblinking stupor. At least her eyes weren't leaking blood now.

All it took was Eric looking away. Nadia gasped greedily for air. Eric eyed her with a mix of relief and worry.

"What the hell just happened to you? It was like you were gone." She'd looked like a lobotomy patient.

Nadia touched her cheeks, feeling for wetness—for blood. She glared at the tips of her pale red fingers.

"It felt like I went somewhere—like I was being called some place far away." And it had hurt her. "The stinging… It's gone now. I... I didn't see anything for ages. It felt like such a long time. But you're still here, still exactly like before." She was in awe.

Eric didn't have words for that. He noticed his fingers were intertwined with hers and that he'd lowered his face to her level. Nadia seemed to notice the same because she pushed into the old wall, distancing them.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No, I'm okay." Another long pause. "How long do we have to wait?"

"A few hours. It'll probably get rowdy outside and that's our best time table." Though the housing in Hiken was distant from the bars and prostitution lane, the ruckus would travel the distance. He hoped. "You can get some rest and I'll wake you up when it's time to move out."

Nadia put up a defiant front. Eric easily saw through it.

"I won't think any less of you if you need to sleep. We're only human."

"Who says I care what you think of me?"

He shrugged. A little devious grin perking his sullen mood, "Hey. How long will my hand be kept a hostage?"

As if burned, Nadia recoiled. Eric muffled a chuckle. She ignored him for the next half hour, give or take, reading through the book Amund gave her. Eric sat beside her, eyes closed, but alert to any small sound—thud. His eyes flew open. Nadia's precious book had fallen from her grasp. Her head was tilted back, mouth slightly parted as she slept. He scratched his head while mumbling a curse because for reasons unknown, he got up and grabbed his abandoned cloak and returned to throw it over Nadia's shivering form.

He sat back down, crossed legged, with his sword at the ready.