Ashes of Eden

Just yesterday, Eric had been feeling like crap. Today, he was feeling like he could run two marathons. It could've been from all the water and food Carter stuffed him with. The priest, Amund, was a silent worker, always humming a song they didn't know. But Eric decided he was a nice guy, as far as priests went. He'd looked relieved to see Eric on his feet. Plus, Amund got him an old sheath for his sword. It was a tight squeeze and five inches of the blade remained uncovered, but at least people wouldn't think Eric was ready to run them through and he could tie it around his waist.

"Shouldn't we ask Amund for help?" Eric asked. Carter and him were shopping on Amund's behalf, touring the small market for fresh fruit and something called Iasthai.

"If you could see Fi, you'd see how you've insulted him." Carter quipped with a laugh. Eric pursed his lips. The Fairy was using glamour to hide himself while they searched the tents. Nadia was right. Carter and Fi were always together. No wonder she'd been going ballistic, Eric was starting to feel the same irritation. He wanted to talk to his brother alone.

"Whatever. I just think we shouldn't put our life in a six-inch dude's hands."

"That six-inch dude saved your life seven days ago. Have you thanked him? You should." It felt like he was talking to a wall. Carter wasn't even looking at him as he spoke. Instead, he kept walking to the nearest stall.

Eric gave a side-glance glare at nothing, feeling like a mopey six-year-old. His brother had been acting strange since Eric woke up. This morning, when he'd been cleaning his body with a washcloth—the closest thing to a shower—he'd caught Carter staring at him. His brother didn't swing that way and even if he did, it would've been creepy. The look on Carter's eyes had been a worried one, which left him even more confused. After his older brother stopped glaring and left, Eric had checked his body all over. He hadn't seen a scratch on him. Especially not something that would get Carter's worry-worm stamp. So what...

Eric stopped. His head snapped towards the familiar sight. Black, dead ground met his gaze as he remembered the fire and woman from days ago, the screams returned in a haunting chant and the deathly cold around his throat soaked his being. Eric suddenly felt eyes on him. When he looked around though, he didn't see anyone staring. He doubted they remembered him with all the madness going around that night. Yet, Eric felt the lingering sensation of being watched. His icy-eyes darted to an alley between two houses. Hadn't he seen someone there that night?

Eric stumbled a step when his shoulder got punched. The touch had been light and affectious, but the sudden contact made him hyperaware. Since he'd woken up, after that fucking dream, Eric hadn't been happy to be touched.

"Pick up the pace, little brother."

Eric nodded and released a breath once Carter turned around. Relax, he told himself, it was a stupid dream. But despite how many times he chanted it, his muscles wouldn't let up. Eric decided to focus on something different.

He walked side by side with Carter, "Nadia told me she saw what attacked me and the woman. The... Dybbuk?" Eric watched his brother's face. Carter eyed him silently. He took it as a que to go on. "I didn't see anything. Did you?" he was trying to hustle Carter at his own cat-and-mouse game.

"No, not a thing. I felt a chill though, which was pretty weird since that fire was bristling just a few feet away. The whole place should have felt like a furnace." The same chill he and Nadia felt while waiting for clothes. "You called out for mom," Eric's eyes jumped to his brother's. "Did you hallucinate?"

Eric remembered little of what happened while he'd been between hellish pain and cold numbness. But there were a few things. He remembered his last nightmare vividly and there was something else, another conversation.

"I know what you are. But whatever you are, you're still a man. All men have needs. If your desires are of the female variety or male…"

That. That one piece stuck and he didn't know why. But it made him think of a pair of eyes. Dark eyes.

"Eric?"

Carter's forehead had deep brooding lines, the same as their father's, when Eric blinked. He licked dry lips, "No. Nothing," Eric lied. "I just had a lot of nightmares."

"Like the ones you used to have?"

"I don't know. It was all a mess." That was pretty much true. Carter finally stopped at a wooden stall, looking over strange herbs and leaves. Eric crossed his arms, impatient. "You never answered me. Shouldn't we tell Amund? Maybe he can help us get back…" he trailed off once he felt someone walk behind them. Eric tilted his head, waiting for them to be gone. "He could help us with our problem."

"We're already being helped," Carter said grabbing a spiral root with orange and brown spots on it. "Excuse me, I'm searching for Iasthai. Is this it?" he asked the market woman. She wore an exotic tunic with colorful splashes of color on a blue background. What called out Eric's attention was the brunt mark on her exposed clavicle. It was a… The girl saw Eric's eyes on the puckered mark and promptly tugged the tunic's material closer. He didn't miss her shoulders drawing in, like she was hiding shame.

Almond eyes shifted towards Carter and with a surprisingly even voice she answered, "Yes, sir, that's Iasthai root. Are you buying it for yourself or for priest Amund?"

"For the priest," Carter answered. If his brother saw the marking, his poker face of a smiling good guy didn't slip. The girl smiled, pleased. "How do you know?"

"Because he's the only one in town who has any use for it. Do you know what this root does?" Carter shook his head after a two second pause. "If administered in the right quantities, the extract from this root can alleviate serious pain. A larger dose causes death. Priest Amund studied the art of healing in Bracha when he was preparing to become a servant of the Gods, and that's why only he can use this."

There was a school in Eden? Great, Eric scoffed to the side, leaning heavily on the nearest stall's wooden pole. He hoped Carter didn't want to enroll him if they never found a way home.

"Why does Amund need this, then? Is someone sick?"

"I'm afraid so. There have been a great number of Dybbuk possessions. Sometimes an expulsion is performed and the Dybbuk is destroyed. The victims are fine after a few weeks, but lately that hasn't been the case. The victims who were possessed fall terribly ill. They say it starts with numbness in your fingers and feet, you lose the sense of touch, then it takes your eyes. The body becomes frailer with high fevers and putrid bruises show along the skin causing horrible pain." Eric felt a shiver run down his spine. Hearing this made him want to thank Fi for driving the Dybbuk away. "They're calling it the Hollow Scourge."

"Why?" Eric asked.

The merchant girl flickered her eyes in his direction for a single second, before they found his brother's face again. She really hadn't enjoyed Eric staring at her brand.

"Because before the victims take a last breath they no longer possess any senses. They can't feel a single touch on their bodies, they can't see, they can't hear their own names being called and they can't smell."

"But Amund can heal them, right?" her sigh reminded Eric of his English teachers—any of them—every time they wrestled him into reading out loud. A sigh that told him they were annoyed by him.

"I told you, this root's extract can be used to ease one's pain. Or kill swiftly. There isn't a cure for the Hollow Scourge."

"Is it infectious?" the girl shrugged at his brother. "How much is it then?"

"Four quadras, sir. Where are you from?" From another dimension.

"Aldo Jahan," Carter answered with a believable Cheshire grin as he dug out the money Amund had given him, passing the coins to the girl. Eric did his best not to look aghast with his brother. "This is our first time in Eden. So far, it hasn't been a very nice stay."

"You're islanders, then." She smiled. "You came in a bad time, I'm afraid. Eden's been feeling unsafe for a while now." The girl mused. "I don't suppose you have many Dybbuk attacks in Aldo Jahan?"

"We have our share. And other problems to contend ourselves with." Again, Eric didn't know what shocked him more, his brother's on-spot vocabulary or his capacity for pivoting on a subject. "Thank you for sharing all this with us, miss. We'll be taking our leave now, priest Amund said he needed this with urgency."

"Of course, go. Maybe you can share stories about your home sometime?" the girl's hopeful eyes didn't escape Eric's notice. Someone thought his brother was hot.

Carter's polite façade never faltered, "Perhaps," he said with a wave, already twisting around to leave, spiral-shaped root in hand.

Eric followed quickly, "What the hell is Aldo Jhaan?"

"Aldo Jahan," his brother emphasized the last word. Blood rushed to Eric's face. Dyslexia was a bitch. "Fi's been telling me about this place. I figured we needed a cover story in case a question like that came up. Fi said islanders don't come to Eden often and they have different cultures. So, what better cover for us to have? We don't know anything about Eden, someone from the islands wouldn't know much, either."

"Good plan. Have you thought about how we're going to get home?" he asked carelessly this time around.

"Not yet."

"Did you see that brand?"

"On her clavicle," Carter confirmed. "It's probably something bad. You shouldn't have stared so long, Eric. It made her uncomfortable."

He hadn't meant to gawk. But that symbol… It felt familiar. Maybe he'd seen some tattoo like it back home? Three circles, each joined by a small line. Like a chain. No matter how much he thought it over, he couldn't place it.

***

Eric was bored. He was sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom, turning his sword in his hands. Carter was somewhere on the streets doing… He wasn't sure what his brother was doing, the only thing Carter told him and Nadia was that they should prepare to leave Callibur. Well, they were ready. The only things Eric owned were his new clothes and sword. Nadia was the only one with actual baggage.

Eric lowered his sword on his lap, looking up. Nadia was sitting on the solo bed, leaning against the headboard, reading a book.

"What's that about?" yes, he was bored enough to ask about the contents of a book. He missed his iPod.

Nadia spared him a glance, "Tales about Eden. I borrowed it from Amund's bookshelf. I figured it could have something about fissures or about the Sight. So far, nothing. Most stories in here sound like fairy tales to me."

He cocked his head, "Found a favorite?"

Nadia stopped turning a page. She was looking down at the old book. Was she going to throw the book at his head? Eric should've known better than to start up conversation with nutcase. But she didn't chuck the book at him. She flung her legs to the side, feet touching the ground and walked toward him. Nadia turned plenty of pages before handing out the book. He eyed it like one would a rabid lion.

"This one's my favorite," she stated quietly. Eric kept on looking, making no move to take the book. "Read it, it's pretty interesting. It has blood, betrayal, assassination…"

He frowned, eyes moving to hers, "You're a sadist, aren't you?" Nadia glowered. "I'm joking." He kind of wasn't. "I can't read without glasses. I get bad headaches."

"Now you're joking."

"Why would I joke about that?" he wasn't joking, he was just lying. Eric wouldn't be caught dead trying to make sense of words on paper and these were handwritten. Scribbles on a dried page. He had a bad enough time reading stuff printed out. "Trust me, if I could read that, I would. I'm dying of boredom."

Nadia clicked her tongue and let out a long sigh. Eric expected her to march off, to continue reading on the bed. She slid down against the wall he'd been leaning on for the last hour or so, with her legs stretched out before her.

"This tale is called The King Sun. Agnar is the city of weaponry and the mastery of its art. They worship the God Cenk, the one who favors those who battle for Eden…"

Eric looked at her awestruck. Like she'd slapped him.

"What are you doing?"

Nadia paused mid-sentence, "Isn't it obvious? I'm taking pity on your poor eye sight. Don't tell me you're hard of hearing, too?"

"N-no," Eric stuttered, bamboozled. Carter used to read to him when he was little, hoping Eric's dyslexia would improve if he heard the right pronunciation of words.

"Good. Then shut up and listen because I'll only read it once." She grumbled. Nadia scanned the paragraph she'd left off, carrying on. "They worship this God and are favored in war. No one battles as fiercely or as strongly as an Agnar soldier. But there are those who are not mere soldiers, there are those who specialize in the art of assassination. The silent rustling in the air, the ones that come whether it is day or night. They are an elite. They serve only Agnar. Not like the brave soldiers who answer the summoning of Phaedra, our lofty capital. For a man to become an assassin is to renounce family and title if one has either. When Eden was young and the age of worshiping Gods was new, Fae and ferocious beasts terrorized Mankind. Those with questionable ancestry, the Ancient Bloods, not so human, of them many stood and watched children being robbed from their cradles, from the arms of their weeping mothers, some as they drew their last breath or screamed into the nothing. One house stood for Mankind, their name kindred to the brightest star in the skies, our house of Aelius. From such house came a clever, courageous youth, his wit and heart for battle knew no equal. Charon Aelius. Despite being born in Phaedra, a city sheltered by tall mountains on one side, a place where people went to seek refuge, he taught himself how to wield a sword, how to mount and hunt. Men and women, inspired by his tenacity and vision, followed him. Charon was no older than eighteen when he could claim he led an army of three thousand soldiers. A bloody war was wagered with no end in sight until Charon saw to unite Phaedra and Agnar. Together they worked to strengthen the defenses against the offending enemies. Charon acted as an envoy for Mankind, seeking audience with the Fae's own leader. Impressed with his honor and honesty, Fauna joined her noble Fae to the thrall of battle in favor of Charon, wishing he could deliver peace. He owned the respect of some Ancient Bloods who could alter their shapes, they too vowed loyalty to him. Eden's territory was expanded upon and where beasts once lorded over there was made peace, villages and towns where Mankind could live safely. No more cries were heard, the dark Fae were slaughtered and captured, using weapons forged with the help of Fauna, the Erlking. Alas, war spawn more than famine, poverty, sickness and death. The bloods pump hard and jealousy is woven into the hearts of the most noble man or woman. Before the stench of bloody battlefields could cease, before corpses were pilfered and buried and burned, already the people called for their savior to be their guide in the years to come, their rightful King that would protect them always. Charon was an honorable man, if one ever lived, he took the first crown upon his head and sat on the throne, only because the races all seemed in agreement, not only Mankind. Alas, his reign was short, for alliances in a time of bloodshed cannot be trusted. The deed was never proven, no one knows who did it or what happened, but as legend goes: Charon was murdered when he was visiting a small fortress he had ordered to be built on the moon shaped island north of the capital, what became known as the Citadel. His body was found being swept in the current, beating against jagged rocks and due this, the reason for his death never became known. It is speculated that his sister, Chanda, conspired with an Agnar general to have an Agnar assassin kill her brother, the first King, for she claimed the throne after his death and after her reign began, Agnar troops were made the official guard and Phaedra's army, loyal to Charon, was disbanded."

Eric's eyes flickered from the musty page to Nadia's face. He almost jumped. Their shoulders were brushing and her face was damn close to his.

"What did you think?"

"That if that's true his sister was a bitch." Nadia's lips wobbled into a small grin. "I'm a little disappointed. I thought your tastes would be more graphical."

"Huh-uh," she intoned flipping the pages again, absently humming. Eric couldn't place that song any more than he could the one Amund hummed. "Did Carter say anything to you about where we were going next?"

"No. He only told me to pack and be ready."

She blew out a sigh, "Is he always so cryptic?" Eric didn't answer, a knock on the door made their heads snap toward it. "Come in," Nadia said, lowering the book to her lap.

The door pushed open and in came Amund. Eric thought Carter's chin length hair was long, but Amund's braided blond hair, reached the middle of his back. Priest Amund was wearing the same white robe, with purple adorns on the sleeves and the circle of spears on the chest. Amund wasn't a tall man, but he was burlier than other priests back home. The skin leading from his left cheek to his neck was patchy. Eric had to contain himself every time he saw the priest. His mind ran wild with possibilities about what happened to Amund's face. Had he been born with a bad skin condition? Had he been mauled by a monster, like those Babi Ngepets?

Amund's upper lip was cut by a small scar, on the left, and that mouth corner didn't shift whenever he spoke or smiled, "Carter told me you are leaving today. I need to see a Dybbuk victim and so I have come to wish you good fortune on the road before I leave." He was off to either give that person a pain relief or death. Eric had told Nadia what the root was for, since Carter seemed so cut off from socializing. Amund's eyes twinkled at the book on Nadia's legs. "Ah, still enjoying that tale book, I see."

"Yes. I'll put it back before we leave."

Amund made a dismissive gesture with a hand.

"Keep the book, Nadia. It does not serve any purpose in this place, only to gain dust. Take it back to Aldo Jahan and share it with your friends."

"Thank you," Nadia accepted with a small smile and pink cheeks. "We're very grateful for everything you've done. Is there anything we can do for you?"

"No, no. You have done enough, children. Although, I will miss having someone to shop for me," Amund laughed richly. "With so many attacks I do not have time to spare. However, offering a hand and shelter for those in need is a duty required of me, of any priest. I do not know where you are planning on traveling next, but you should avoid Hiken and mind the roads in Loron. Hiken is a dangerous city, full of depravity and heinous crime and Loron's forest is crawling with bandits."

"I'm more worried about Dybbuk." Eric muttered earning a side-look from the girl sitting beside him. "Isn't there anyway to see them?"

"Unfortunately, no. Dybbuk and other spirits elude Mankind's eyes. Only Fae and those gifted with the Sight are able to see them. While Fae are quite abundant, they prefer to stay hidden in Idril, instead of meddling in our problems." Amund added the last part sadly. "I fear our races are at odds once more. Not just Mankind and Fae, but others as well. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to sail off and make a home on one of the islands, as your colony did. If only they…" Amund trailed off with a younger, boyish look on his face. Shaking himself out of whatever daydream, he lifted a hand and placed it across the symbol on his robe. "May our Gods lead you to your destiny and may it be ever favorable. I bid you farewell, children, and know that you will always find help in a place of worship."

A little dramatic for Eric's taste. He just gave a half smile and did some sort of awkward salute with his hand. Nadia was stoic when he looked over, like she was considering something.

"Priest Amund," Nadia jumped. The tale book hit Eric's knee, bouncing to the ground. "Wait. What… was that you said about the Sight?" Amund stopped at the doorway, looking over a shoulder.

"The Sight is a gift bestowed by the Goddess Phyta, the one who brings life and rebirth. It allows a human to see spirits, be them Dybbuk or peaceful ones that have yet to cross into the Spiritual Plane. Even Fae are not able to fool their eyes with glamour. Such a gift is given at birth, but it is said to…"

Footsteps met Eric's ears and soon, his older brother was walking inside, slipping around Amund who nodded his head. Carter nodded back. His brother lowered a large bag with what smelled like food. That got Eric's stomach growling. Ever since he'd come out of his… coma? He'd been hungrier than ever.

"I was just bidding my goodbyes and wishing your brother and Nadia a safe trip."

"That's very kind of you, priest Amund. I thank you again for the quadras you gave me, it was very generous."

Amund regarded the large bag on the bed. He rubbed his bearded chin, "I do not believe I gave you so much, Carter."

"I've been told my bargaining skills are quite legendary." His brother's eyes were sparkling with mischief. It caused Amund to squint.

"I hope your bargaining skills were all you used?"

"Of course, sir."

The priest gave another shake of his head, as if ridding himself of a burden, and nodded leaving with a last goodbye to Carter. After Amund was gone from the room, Carter closed the door and Fi dropped his glamour. Eric's eyes were on Nadia. Amund said people with this Sight thing could see Fae even when they were invisible. Could she always see Fi? He'd have to ask later because Carter was unpacking the bag, droning on about something.

"I think we should head to Idril. Fi says their King will know something about fissures." Idril… Hadn't Amund mentioned that?

"What king?"

"My king! The King of Fae, the Erlking." Fi squealed. Anything the Fairy said sounded like a squeal in Eric's ears.

"So… we're letting Fi go home? I thought he only got to go back when we found our way home. That was the deal."

"It still is. Fi's leading us into Idril and he'll arrange for a meeting with his King. If the Erlking knows how to get us home, great. We go home and Fi's duty is fulfilled. If the Erlking can't send us home, Fi will have to keep searching for a way, he won't be able to stay at Idril."

"That seems fair." Nadia stuffed her book into her Nike bag. "How far away is Idril?"

"Don't say it depends on how far we can walk." Eric snapped at Fi.

The Fairy appeared insulted and turned his back on Eric.

"The quickest way to Idril is through the Loron territory. To reach Idril we'll need to cross several miles of land and forest. The Loron lands are the largest territory in Eden, not to mention the most poor and criminalized. It's a dangerous journey that usually takes about twelve moons on foot and fewer on horseback," Fi pinned Eric with a mocking glare. "For simpletons who can't fly."

He hated that flying ken doll.

"Twelve moons? You mean… That's almost two weeks." Nadia did the math.

Eric heard Fi mutter "weeks?" puzzled and smirked. His smirk dropped when Amund's words came back.

"Amund said those roads are crawling with thieves."

"Bandits," Nadia pitched in.

Eric rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Same difference. Are you sure this is the right move, bro?"

"Even if it's dangerous it's the only hope we have so far."

So, they were setting off to Fae-land. How many Fis would exist there to annoy him? Fantastic, Eric thought bitterly. Still, he was pumped by the idea of leaving this room. Part of him actually wanted to explore what this place had to offer. Carter threw a worn satchel his way and told him to stuff some food inside it. Next, Carter shoved a leather canteen filled with fresh water into Eric's hands. He gave one to Nadia, too. Eric grabbed his vest off the floor, where he'd been sitting his patience away, putting it on. He frowned. It felt a little tighter around his shoulders.

Eric caught Nadia throwing one last glare at the circle of spears. Did she feel the same chill in her bones when she looked at it? It slipped from his mind as they walked outside the small church and walked the skinny dirt roads leading to the town's entrance and exit. Eric didn't look over the scorched ground, but he felt the same presence lingering around, the one watching them.