Rayla stopped her doe. "Here. It was here."
Callum shuddered. "Yep. No doubt."
They got off their rides. Honsa's foot caught in the stirrups and she slammed clumsily into the muddy ground. "Tsa! I'm glad I'm not wearing my nice clothes now! Kanapapiki!", she groaned under her breath, reassembling herself. Zym snarked at her from Callum's saddle bag. "I get it, runt, don't wake me, yadda, yadda! Shoosh!"
Rayla and Callum were walking ahead, his hand wandering to hers, automatically. He was shaking. So was she. Honsa worriedly shook her head. Maybe this was a bad idea.
The river was calmer now. There had been no more flooding in the past week.
They were stepping onto the scene of their fight with Kel. The tracks in the mud were faded by weather.
Lessa's trackers had not been wrong about the obvious. There was no body. Callum stared at the spot where the bounty hunter had fallen. "There's no way. No way, no how. She can't still be out there."
Rayla nodded, feeling quite the same. She didn't believe that Kel was still alive, but the mere hint that she might be made her heart thump. Rayla took Callum by the shoulders and kissed him.
"Here's where you saved my bacon, dummy. Thank you"
He nodded, giving her a weak smile, "I think you deserve those thanks more than I do", he answered with a dry mouth, "Without you standing up to her I'd probably be a few waterlogged bones downstream."
She looked at him sadly. "Teamwork killers, I guess."
Honsa carefully approached them. "How is it looking?"
"She isn't here", Callum said while Rayla ducked to the ground to try and note any tracks she could make out. There was a slight singe mark where the sword had melted, a spray of cold metal. She came across a trail of vanishing black splotches that she recognized as her own blood. Her gaze wandered along the fading trail, memories haunting her. It was harrowing, being here again. The healing slash in her stomach itched.
As she reached the spot where a massive imprint hinted at the former location of Kel's body, she noticed something amiss right away. Lessa's trackers had spent little time on their work or were not very good at it. Not that it mattered. They were likely dead now.
A few yards away in the cacti hung bits of fur, doubtlessly torn off of Kel's coat. There were no larger furry animals in the plains.
Rayla followed the tracks into the woods, drawing her blades. In the late afternoon, chills started running over her, she was gripped by the eerie feeling that she was hunting a ghost.
Callum and Honsa followed her at a distance.
Then she saw it and recoiled, her face warped with fear and disgust.
"Hold it there, guys!", she yelled over her shoulder, trying not to heave too obviously.
She'd found Kel's body - what was left of it. The hand with the roughly smithed wedding ring which was welded to Moon Cleaver's hilt had to suffice as confirmation of her identity.
Rayla turned away, the revolting, gruesome sight etched into her mind.
"I found her", she told her boyfriend, trying to calm her roiling stomach, "She is just…", Rayla breathed evenly, willing her insides to stop turning, "Skulk bites and tear marks. They must've dragged her down there for... dinner."
Callum turned green. Honsa looked at both of them with worry. She didn't seem affected by the mental image.
"It's kinda comforting to know she's not out t-there", Callum said, clinging desperately to Rayla who sadly pet his hair.
Honsa nodded. "I'm proud of you, guys. You're taking this head-on."
"Right on the forehead", Callum quipped shakily, motioning at his head in a round gesture that indicated that he thought of himself as insane, "Trust me, I feel all kinds of terrible right now. I just… refuse to lose it. I… I knew she was dead. Knew it. This isn't news. Confirmation at best.", he welled up, after all, "I killed her. Rayla! I k-killed her!"
Honsa placed her hands on her muddy hips, speaking firmly but empathetically. "She forced your hand. Little else to do. Rayla was gonna die. You defended her."
"I know. Still feels like I could've found a better way. There must've been something else I could have done!"
Rayla slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. Anything less than knockin' her out wouldn't've helped. That's what you tried to do. It just didn't go our way."
She embraced him, tightly.
After a moment, Callum recovered a little. He looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the body.
"I… do you think…", he fumbled at words, "Can we… bury her?"
Rayla sighed deeply, looking over his shoulder at Honsa. "Oh dummy, you are just too good for this world. I just don't know if..."
Honsa shook her head, frowning, obviously not enthusiastic about the idea herself. But, to Rayla's surprise and dismay, she mouthed, 'Do it. Might help him.'
Comforting her boyfriend, Rayla nodded back at her, her face grim but determined.
Honsa lost her lunch immediately upon seeing the ravaged corpse. Callum and Rayla on the other hand had seen death at Larwein. The only real difference was that the wounds suffered by pila and swords were clean and surgical. Skulks had nothing but teeth, made for ripping and tearing.
It was gut wrenching, but once they learned to expect the feeling, they held it together, if barely so. Their heads were busy twisting this protective distancing into a searing brand of evil, burning on their hearts.
Field shovels and the soft, muddy ground made digging a shallow grave rather quick work. Quick, but still not easy. Rayla had to take several breaks to catch her breath and stop her head from spinning.
Finally, they stood in front of a small mound covering Kel's remains. The warped and jagged shape of Moon Cleaver served as a marker. The wedding ring felt out of place, stuck to the weapon's hilt.
An icon of love on the grave of a killer.
Almost ironically, Callum felt as though some of his humanity had been restored to him by this grim act, having at least given his victim a proper burial.
"You tried to kill us. I forgive you", he said quietly, feeling as though he was the one who should ask for forgiveness instead.
After a moment of unsure looks and a nod exchanged between the two of them, Rayla and Honsa knelt. Callum looked at them, confused.
"We've hated each other in life", Rayla said, solemnly.
"Now, friend, go easy. Nix tribe lines and blood feud; forever", Honsa answered with pathos.
After a moment, the elves rose.
"What does that mean?", Callum asked.
Honsa smiled sadly, her eyes still fixed on the grave. "Pretty much the same thing you said, dude. Way back before the split between humans and elves, we elves all used to kill each other. It used to be kind of the same battle between the tribes as dere is now between us and you guys. Dark Magic changed dat. Brought pinkos to the same power as the tribes. Scared the horns offa everyone", she snickered slightly, "It was like your pentapus pet learning how to do magic over night. The elves came together under the Dragons' guidance and we swore to forgive past sins. Blood feuds ended. Tribes started to mingle, turning against you humans instead."
"We don't know what kind of funeral she would've wanted for herself", Rayla continued, watching Callum's face carefully, "Among the tribes, we have loads of different traditions around dyin'. Whenever someone passes and the people around them don't know how to give them the fittin' last honor, they use that call and answer. Well; First part's different when the dead person was on better terms with you. You'd say `We've not known your heart in life` instead."
Callum nodded. He realised then that he had no idea how the other kingdoms would honor their dead. Maybe he'd done the wrong thing, burying her. Opeli hadn't taught him much beyond Katolis, and that only because of his mom. He shook his head.
People loved avoiding hard conversations; the most necessary. His dad had always been good at them. But he couldn't teach him everything. There hadn't been time.
Their work done, a certain awkwardness broke over them. They didn't want to stay here, near the grave, but they were all dead tired at this point. Rayla had pressed them through the day, wanting to get here to satisfy her worry.
Both Callum and Honsa appreciated it. It was obvious that Rayla was at least somewhat relieved to find her quarry dead, no longer a threat. One did not brush with their own murder without some resentment.
Night had mostly fallen, only a thin, blue-silver gash still cutting across the cloudy horizon. The thunderstorm they had observed while running from Ivine was still breaking against the easterly mountains, much further to the south.
"Let's see if we can't find a nice spot to camp further upstream", Rayla said, clapping her dirty hands to her hips to clean them off.
Honsa shook her head. "We can rest on the other side of the river. I don't wanna ride no moa.", she twiddled her fingers, "I'll make a path for us."
Rayla acquiesced reluctantly. She felt a bit guilty, having hurried them so much.
The women went, leaving Callum standing by the grave alone.
Rayla turned to face him, "You comin'?"
Callum looked up at her, his eyes glistening. "I'll lift myself over in a bit. I just need a moment alone. With her."
The elf gave him a loving, concerned look. "Don't be long, or I'll come get you."
Her and Honsa led their Perytons to the river. A moment later, Callum heard the words "Káne stin ákri" and the wild gush of rushing water. He looked over to see the river, avoiding his girlfriend and Honsa, flowing between and around them, but touching neither them nor their animals. Rayla looked like she was going to puke, more so than when she'd seen Kel's body.
Ocean magic was apparently really cool, too.
He turned back to Kel.
"I wish you could have had a more peaceful life. Then you might not have come here", he crouched, touching the fresh dirt, "Why did I have to kill you? Why couldn't you just leave us alone?"
He didn't expect an answer, obviously, but he would've given a lot to understand all of her motivations. Sure; She had probably come after them for money, that much he assumed as given. After Ithral's death, though, they had become a personal issue for her.
In some crooked sense, he was hoping he'd find out even more disgusting details about her in the future. Callum wished to learn that she was the worst person to ever walk the earth, as though it would relieve some of his own guilt.
But, annoyingly, he knew she had been capable of love. The wedding ring was a stark reminder of that fact.
She had loved her husband. Something had happened to her to narrow the circle of people she extended that love to. Did she have kids? Any kind of family? How had she ended up learning how to fight - and why?
His brain tied itself into a painful knot.
Was she the same as Rayla, without an early moment of conscience, fit to derail her career of death? In an alternate universe, his adorable elf might not have developed qualms.
Abhorring murder to a degree where she would put her own life on the line for someone who was trying to kill her - that was Rayla as he knew her. Needless to say, he was glad to live in a universe in which she was not a willing killer.
Zym eventually startled him out of his reverie. The little dragon came gliding across the river, landing on his shoulder. Callum groaned as the whelp's heft threw off his balance. Soon enough he would no longer be light enough to ride a human.
The prince rose, careful not to throw off his Xadian counterpart. Walking towards the river, he drew runes. "Ratis", he activated, "Alatus", he added. As the spells lifted him and a cooing Zym high above the trees, he noticed how dramatic the scene was, once more. The plains seemed to be quite the place for drama.
Dark-as-night anvil clouds, drifting sand, angry creatures, angry humans, haunting graves.
He half-smiled, noticing the sandstone arch, jutting out of the forest in the south-western distance.
Up ahead he could make out a change in the landscape at the foot of the mountains. There was a splatter of incredible color on the ground, heavy steam rising from whatever it was.
Closer than that stood a very intentional looking, circular field of what Callum thought might be corn. Was there a farm there? If so, the trees obscured it.
He felt so at ease up here, where the din of the world seemed to subside a little, drowned out by softly coursing wind. Ratis was syphoning his energy, palpably, but he would have loved to stay up here for a while longer. "Aspiro", he said, and a gust of wind carried him towards where Rayla was checking on their animals' almost empty feed bags. They could find some more food on the ground here, but as they got closer to the mountains, the stags would start to starve if they couldn't figure out a portable source of food. Maybe they could steal some corn from the supposed farm.
He landed softly, Zym next to him walking into the ground more than anything. It felt like a shallow peace had come over him. After the shock of finding Kel's body, the background noise of his anxiety and self-hatred semed mercifully quiet.
"Hey", Rayla said, "Glad to see you two swoop in."
He smiled, running a hand over her cheek to pull her into a soft kiss.
"Give me a moment with Honsa?", he asked evenly.
She shrug-nodded, surprised at his good spirits. Smiling mischievously, she boxed his shoulder as he turned away, "I'll expect to be bribed in smooches, though."
"I'll smooch anything you want", he snickered, swatting limply at her offending hand.
She seemed oddly confused by this. Yeah, the quip hadn't made a lot of sense - she wasn't going to make him kiss a rock.
Honsa was sitting on the ground, trying to get a small fire started.
The ocean elf was useless.
"Can you do… the thing?" He twirled his indexes at his ears.
"Ya. But you do that thing.", she pointed at her hapless bundle of sticks, "Deep focus or easy conversation?"
"Focus. Uh, sorry. Need to figure this one out by myself."
She sat behind him, yawning, while he messed with her clumsily piled kindling, setting it alight using his flint and steel.
"Estiáste sto váthos tis empeirías sas", she chanted and he felt the pressure of the situation lifted off his shoulders.
All distraction faded. The world turned wholly black, a dark blue light illuminating a mountain range in the distance.
He breathed in very slowly, focussing on the moment. His breath coursed through him, lifting his shoulders and chest. He also felt it at the tip of his nose.
He knew nothing but his own thoughts.
He watched them drift by, allowing himself to feel.
If Viren had shown up at this very moment, in the second it would have taken Callum to disengage from the deep focus spell, he would have loved the man like his own stepfather. Under its influence, there was no conditionality. Saying "I love you, because..." made no sense.
Obviously, this feeling extended to himself. He loved himself, absolutely.
Through all of his thoughts was spun an obvious thread of self-hatred. It did not currently affect him.
Callum listened to his mind, screeching under the weight of his responsibility.
A few short months ago, he had been a royal, but a nobody. A mere step-prince. He was terrible at everything that was expected of him and had had no success with women… well, THE woman.
He beamed at himself as he was, now. He loved Rayla. She loved him. He was a mage. He was good at it. He knew how to survive in the wild - mostly.
But then there it was again.
He'd killed someone.
The self-hatred pulsed, threatening to pull him from his reverie.
After a moment of observing this, he realised that this deep disappointment with himself was actually a good thing.
It meant he was a good person.
Death would never be a tool for him, never anything other than a terrible accident.
His breath ran out and he gasped for air, keeping his eyes shut. He was back in the real world, the background noise, both real and mental, returning.
Honsa let go of his ears. "Do you wanna talk?", she yawned loudly.
"No. I'm good. Thank you. You really sound like you need to sleep."
"Oh ya brah, I'm off… but not to sleep just yet. My legs are just done, yo. Riding animals!", she yawned again, then mumbled, "How do you haoles do it?"
She fell backwards towards her tent and dragged herself inside.
Callum stayed on the ground, letting the warmth of the fire hit his face with his eyes still closed. His senses seemed very sharp; He paid attention to the crackling of the fire.
Rayla's lovely accented voice was busy praising her doe off in the middle distance. Her calm speech was supporting the clinking and clattering sounds of a leather strap, used to hobble the animal.
He could also hear quiet rustling of fabrics coming from Honsa's tent. Then, what sounded like scissors in staccato, cutting cloth.
When the prince opened his eyes, Rayla was opposite him. She was turned away on her knees, bent over to mess with her sleeping bag in their tent.
"A bacon worth saving", he whispered, fondly.
She looked over her shoulder, frowning with an amused glint in her violet eyes, "Wow, really? Jeeeerk!"
The ears on these moonshadow elves, tsk!
She stuck out her tongue at him.
'I love you', he signed.
'I too but sleep', she replied with a yawn.