Amor Vincit Omnia
(Love Conquers All)
Part Two: The Fragile Heart
"Oh, I could wait 'til morning
If it don't come down today
A dime says I won't be satisfied
Gonna put myself on the leaving train
And I won't come back again
The words that go unspoken
On the color of the sun
And the cooling air of the evening shade
And the restless hours on the sleeping plane
And the last taillight on the leaving train
I won't come back again."
- Gillian Welch
"Leaving Train"
I can hardly believe it ... another part of this massive story done! I always feel nostalgic when writing endings, and this one was no exception ... possibly the most difficult chapter I've ever had to write. I hope you all enjoy it! I would love to get feedback, it's so appreciated and makes all my hard work incredibly worthwhile.
Just a quick warning, there is an M-rated scene at the very end of the chapter. I know they're few and far between in my work (writing smut isn't my biggest talent :/) but this one rivals the second one in length and ... uh ... details. ;)
Finally, I'd just like to offer my sincerest thanks to everyone who has read this story, and for all the lovely people who's constant support made it possible. Thank you all! See you in Part III, which I'll post as soon as I complete the first chapter. It will be M as well, so keep an eye out for it. I'll also post a notice on this story as a courtesy, so please don't unfollow it. :)
Chapter Twenty-Three: A Parting of Ways
The next few days were a blur in Saiya's mind – a chain of events and people and places, of which only a few moments stood out as note-worthy.
On the first day, she walked through the ruined marketplace hand in hand with Baal, and saw refugees and citizens working alongside Iron Wolves and palace guards to clear the rubble away. The dead lay in long rows, covered by sheets. Baal told her that the sheets were traditionally white, to express the purity of the soul in repose, but there were so many corpses that cloth of other colors had to be used. The effect was rather beautiful, in a strange, sad way: a rainbow, a vibrant ribbon of formless shapes that lit up the dull brown tones of the city.
Entering Daglanma Qun, they found a dimly-lit room filled with pipe smoke, riotous laughter, the odors of ale and sweat and hearty food. The inn was packed so full of people that there was hardly room to move, but most of them seemed to be focused around a particular table. Lyndon was seated there, playing a game with dice, a bottle in one hand and his arm wrapped around the waist of a scantily-clad young woman. He appeared to be winning, if the massive pile of coins in front of him was any indication.
"There you are," Saiya said, shoving her way through the throng. "We've been looking for you."
"Hello, darling," replied Lyndon, with a grin. The girl beside him gave Saiya a critical once-over and laughed loudly.
"You are his wife, yes?" she asked.
"No," Saiya replied firmly. "I most certainly am not." To Lyndon, she said, "I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself."
"Is that disapproval I sense in your tone?"
She scowled at him. "Have you looked outside lately? There are still people trapped in fallen buildings, or down in the sewers. Everyone else is helping, while you sit here getting drunk and cheating these poor fellows out of everything they own."
"Cheating?" roared the man sitting opposite Lyndon, an extraordinarily ugly individual with a hole where his left eye should be. He spat out a string of filthy-sounding words and slammed a knife point first into the table.
"Oh, now you've done it," Lyndon muttered. Holding up his hands, he said, "I am not cheating, my good sir, you have my oath of honor."
"Cheating!" One-Eye repeated. It seemed to be the only Khanduran he knew.
Saiya felt warm breath against her ear, and Baal murmured, "We should leave. I have a feeling that it's about to get violent in here."
His prediction proved accurate moments later, when One-Eye took a swipe at Lyndon across the table. It fell short by several inches, but the murderous intent was unmistakable, and before Saiya knew what was happening, the whole tavern had erupted into chaos, some men (and women, she noticed) jumping to Lyndon's defense with swinging fists and raised voices, while others seemed determined to pin the rogue down and wrest his winnings away from him. Lyndon himself melted into the background with a casual calm that suggested he was no stranger to bar brawls.
Baal guided Saiya out of the inn with a hand at the small of her back, steering her expertly through the scuffle. She was touched by the protective gesture, however unnecessary. Lyndon met them outside, leaving heavily on a crutch. His right leg was splinted from the knee down.
"You're injured," Saiya observed.
"A bit, yeah," he said. "One of those snakey bastards decided to wrap itself around my leg and snap it."
"Oh. Well, that explains why you're not out working, I suppose. Sorry for scolding you about it. And I'm sorry for getting you kicked out of the tavern."
"Think nothing of it," Lyndon said gallantly. "It was inevitable. I've yet to patronize an establishment that hasn't thrown me out on my ear."
"Well, I don't remember throwing you out of my tent," said a clear, feminine voice, "so I fail to understand what you're doing here."
Asiya was standing behind them, arms crossed and a scowl on her face that Saiya had only seen when one of her patients was trying to escape her. "Does this look like my tent to you, Lyndon?" she continued.
"No, ma'am," Lyndon replied, smirking. "It's much less interesting."
"Then why are you here instead of there, where I told you to stay until you can walk properly?"
"I can walk properly. See?" He leaned the crutch against a nearby wall and took a lurching step forward, flinching when his weight came down on his game leg. Baal grabbed his arm to stop him from falling.
"Clearly," said Asiya. She turned to Saiya, and her glower lightened. "Hey, good to see you! How do you feel?"
"Still a little tired, but overall, fine. Which is kind of a miracle, I guess, considering that I was up against one of the Greater Evils. What about you? You haven't been overworking yourself, have you?"
The healer shrugged. "Don't have much choice. Loads of dying and injured people and gross understaffing means long hours. Of course, it's a lot easier for me to do my job when my charges bloody stay put!" She directed a potent glare at Lyndon.
"I was bored," he whined. "You were neglecting me. And besides, the tavern offered me free drinks on account of my current hero status."
"Hero status?" Saiya repeated.
Asiya rolled her eyes. "Didn't he tell you? The only reason the serpent attacked him was because he stopped it from devouring a little girl."
"Bah," said Lyndon. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
Baal chuckled. "I gotta say, I never expected you to be the modest type."
"There's really nothing to boast about."
Asiya said, "Tell that to the child who is going to live to see adulthood."
Seeing the embarrassment on Lyndon's face, Saiya decided that a change of subject was in order. "How is your aunt doing?" she asked Asiya.
"Recovering," her friend answered. "In body, at least. She'll be strong as an ox again in no time. But mentally …" She sighed. "I don't know. Her will is broken, I think. She blames herself for the Emperor's death, and nothing I say seems to change her mind."
"It wasn't her fault," Baal said. "It couldn't be helped. Hakan was dead from the moment Belial chose to possess him."
"Try telling Auntie that," Asiya sighed. "You may not know this, but she led the expedition that was charged with bringing the young Emperor back to Caldeum after his father's death. His mother had been exiled before his birth – some scandal or another – but he was Hakan the First's only heir, and the court decided that they would prefer the imperial line to continue than allow a stranger on the throne. Auntie was only a mercenary that that point, but she ended up bonding with Hakan on the journey, and swore her allegiance to him once he was crowned. Even though she's never explicitly said so, I suspect that she thought of him more as a son than a leader. She loved him."
Baal bowed his head. "I didn't know," he said. "I'm sorry, truly. If I'd known, I would have chosen a different way to do it. I …" He broke off with a small, muffled groan, and when he lifted his head, his eyes were shining with emotion. "I know how it feels to have your family killed in front of you. Please, tell Asheara that … men öz elleri menim heyat qoymaq."
Asiya's eyes widened. "Are you sure?" she whispered.
"Yes," Baal said with a brisk nod. "Quite sure."
"You are an honorable man," the healer murmured, bowing deeply. Before anyone else could speak, she spun around and took hold of Lyndon's arm, saying, "Alright, you've tasted freedom for long enough. I expect you show proper repentance for causing me so much trouble."
"Oh, I shall," Lyndon promised. "I'm sure you'll have me on my knees before the hour is out, begging your forgiveness."
Saiya did not miss the wicked gleam in his eye, nor the blush that stained Asiya's bronze cheeks. She raised an eyebrow at the pair, and Asiya shook her head almost imperceptibly in return.
"I still want to catch up with you, Saiya," she said. "Tomorrow evening, around six, in the tavern? Drinks are on me."
"Sounds lovely," Saiya replied.
"I do believe Lyndon has made another conquest," Baal remarked under his breath as Asiya dragged the rogue away.
"He'd better not break her heart," Saiya muttered, glaring daggers at Lyndon's unprotected back. "If he does, I'll personally strangle him!"
Baal chuckled. "Oh, I think it's more likely to be the other way around. Your friend is quite the formidable woman. It's no mystery who she got it from, either."
"What did you say to her?" Saiya asked. "I know that men is 'I', and doesn't heyat mean 'life'?"
"It does indeed," Baal said. "I'm impressed, nuur il'-en. Your Kehjistani is coming along quite nicely – though you need to make your 'h' a little harder. You pronounced the first syllable like you were talking about a hayfield. It's more like 'hhh'." He made a rough sound in the back of his throat, as though he'd been punched in the stomach.
"Don't change the subject," Saiya scolded. "You sent Asheara a message having to do with your life, and I'd like to know what it was."
Baal visibly hesitated, gnawing at his bottom lip, and for a long moment Saiya thought he was going to tell her it was none of her business. At last he said, "I told her that I put my life in her hands."
Saiya narrowed her eyes. "And that means …?"
"It means," said Baal, "that I acknowledged the wrong I had done to her, and that according to the laws of the land, she has the privilege, should she desire it, to take my life in payment."
"She wouldn't, though!" Saiya cried in alarm. "…Would she? Baal?"
"I sincerely doubt it," he said. "It's mostly about the symbolism."
"I hope so," Saiya muttered.
On the second day, she spent the morning writing some long-promised letters to Captain Aidel and the children of New Tristram and Wortham that she had befriended during her time there. For the little ones, she included several trinkets: pretty pebbles, dried flowers, a little pouch of desert sand, and a feather plucked from the tail of a very indignant Gawahir. To Aidel, she wrote an account of their adventures, and a summary of the fragile political situation in Kehjistan. From what she could tell, public opinion was divided more or less down the middle, with many supporting Fahkri and the idea of a fresh new leadership, while others wanted a reinstatement of the old regime under a more conventional Emperor. Fahkri had the support of the Iron Wolves and the refugees, but his opponents held the majority of the nobility in their sway, and the influential members of society (who all happened to be very wealthy) dreaded the rise of the working class that Fahkri promised. Already, fearful whispers of the possibility of civil war were spreading about the streets like a disease, infecting refugees and nobles alike with paranoia and distrust. It was dismaying to see people who only a few days before had been working side by side suddenly turning their backs on each other.
"How could everyone have forgotten about Belial so soon?" Saiya complained to Asiya over glasses of wine and plates of curried lamb in the tavern that evening. "I mean, the city is still in ruins, and the economy, which need I add was already suffering under Hakan, is at an all-time low! Can't people see that fighting over who sits in a fancy chair and gives orders is the last thing this nation needs?"
"It's not about Fahkri, or that rat-bastard Basil Huda, or anyone else who is willing to assume leadership," Asiya said. "It's about the ideology they represent. Fahkri would carry Kehjistan into a new age, where all people would be equal. The old guard is afraid of that; it would mean the loss of privileges they reckon theirs by birthright. So what it really boils down to is, can the people, as a whole, accept changes which will benefit some and lower others, in the light of the greater good?"
"If they can't, they have no right to call themselves citizens of a great country such as this," Saiya insisted, perhaps a little more vehemently than she would have normally. The wine was very strong, and she had not had much to eat in recent weeks.
Asiya chuckled. "Look at you, getting all fired up over politics in a land you don't even belong to!"
"Hey!" Saiya grumbled. "I think I have just as much of a right as anyone else to get 'fired up' if I want to. I helped kill Belial, you know. And besides, this is where Baal was born, so that makes it my adopted country. Country-in-law? Is that a thing?"
"I should get you drunk more often," Asiya snickered. "This is hilarious! Country-in-law?"
"Well, why not? Neither of us have any family, so countries will have to do. That … didn't sound very good."
"It was patriotic, let's leave it at that. So … you're pretty serious about him, huh? Are you thinking of getting married?"
Saiya scowled into the bottom of her glass. "Thinking, yeah. I always think about it. I don't talk about it, not with him, at least."
Asiya split the last of the bottle between them and signaled the innkeeper for another. "How come, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Oh no, it's fine. I guess … we've, uh … had some communication issues in the past. Neither of us is very good at verbalizing our feelings."
"In other words," Asiya said drying, "you're afraid to ask him in case he says no."
"It's not like that!" Saiya protested, dimly aware even with the fuzziness of alcohol misting up her mind that it most certainly was like that. Shaking her head as if she could expel the thought, she said, "I'm not afraid, Asiya, I just … I don't want to lose him, and mentioning something concrete like 'marriage' might scare him off."
"You talk about him like he's a flighty horse," her friend snorted. "Come on, give the guy some credit! He's stuck with you this far, hasn't he, and it hasn't exactly been smooth saying, from everything you've told me."
"If you're talking about the week I spent possessed by Zoltun Kulle-"
"Yeah, that probably would have sent most men running for the hills."
"We've worked through that."
"Oh, so you can talk to each other."
Saiya took a deep breath. Perhaps it was the sensitive subject matter, perhaps it was just the wine, but Asiya's manner was beginning to grate on her nerves. What does she know about it, the young monk thought. She has no idea how hard it's been, breaking through Baal's layers of armor, getting him to trust me even as much as he does. I can't jeopardize that! Not for anything.
"Even your own happiness?" Asiya said, and Saiya gave a violent start, nearly tipping her glass over.
"Did I … say that out loud?" she mumbled, blushing furiously. "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean-"
Asiya made a dismissive gesture. "It's fine, I shouldn't have pried so much. I don't normally, you know. As a matter of fact, I believe firmly in letting people make their own mistakes, regardless of how much I like them."
"Speaking of mistakes," Saiya retorted, only half teasing, "don't think I didn't notice how close you've gotten to Lyndon, suddenly."
All expression dropped away from Asiya's face, leaving it as blank as a stone cliff, and twice as forbidding. "What about it?" she said.
"Well," said Saiya, in too deep now to pull back, "I just think I should warn you, as a friend, about getting involved with him, unless of course it's strictly for fun. I won't judge if it is. But he's got a history of pledging himself to women and then abandoning them once he's gotten what he wants. I've seen it with my own eyes."
"It's so kind of you to defend my virginal honor," Asiya snapped.
Saiya held up her hands. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Yes, you did. You were trying to get back at me for snooping into your affairs."
"A little," she admitted, "but I'm sorry. I won't say another word about it."
"Good," said Asiya. A moody silence prevailed for a few minutes, and then Saiya pulled herself together and directed the conversation towards the art of healing, under the guise of trying to pick up some first aid tips. Thankfully Asiya took the bait, and while the rest of the evening was not as convivial as either of them would have liked, it was bearable at least, and they parted with a hug and mutual thanks. Asiya returned to the market square, which (as the only open area of decent size the city had to offer) had been taken over by a forest of tents to house the injured and homeless. Saiya, in turn, made her way with some difficulty up the steep cliffside trail to the Hidden Camp.
Baal was still awake when she stepped into the small tent that the two of them shared. The Hunter had finished tinkering with his composite bow, and eagerly showed her the results.
"It can't fire as rapidly as Thaqib," he said, "but the longer barrel allows for much heavier ammunition. So this one will be for the special bolts: the elementals, the net bolt, the cluster shots, and so on."
"What's that thing on the bottom?" Saiya inquired, and he grinned.
"This? It shoots grenades when I pull the second trigger. Should come in handy."
"No doubt it will!" Saiya exclaimed. "Very impressive, Baal." What she didn't say, but what lingered on her mind nevertheless, was, It's almost as though he's gearing up for war.
He must have read the question in her eyes, for his own gaze dropped and he set his weapon carefully aside. "We need to talk," he said.
Saiya gulped down the panic rising in her throat. He's going to leave. He's going to leave! He's going to leave me.
"What's up?" she asked, marveling at the steadiness of her tone.
"With Belial dead, the threat to Kehjistan is ended," Baal began slowly, and she got the impression that he was choosing his words with care. "Any threat that we're capable of handling, that is. There's no reason for us to remain here."
Us, she thought. At least there's still an 'us'. For now.
"Unless we wanted to," she said, just as cautiously.
Baal stared at her thoughtfully. "Do you?"
It was now or never. Saiya took a deep breath. "I would be happy anywhere … as long as you were with me."
Silence. Baal's shoulders, which had been tight with tension, slumped almost imperceptibly, but his face remained troubled.
At last, he said, "Saiya, I am not a free man. As much as I might desire it, I cannot disappear into obscurity with you to live out the rest of my days in peace. My heart belongs to you, and you only, but my body is pledged to the Hunters, and as long as I have the strength to fight, I must."
"I understand." She bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut. The warmth on her cheek, she realized, was the touch of tears.
"However," Baal continued, "that being said … as long as you can accept our relationship under those terms, I see no reason for us to be parted. This is my proposal to you, the only one I can make: that you should choose a place to settle down, be it here or in New Tristram, or your temple, or wherever you would like to call home. I will return to see you as often as my work allows, and you may accompany me on my travels when you desire."
"Then let me come with you always," Saiya blurted out. "I don't mind living on the road, Baal. I did it before we met, and I can do it again. As far as I'm concerned, you are my home."
Gently, he shook his head. "That isn't possible, I'm afraid. The laws of the Hunters forbid outsiders from entering our city-"
"Then I will join the Hunters."
"No!" he cried, and for a split second, his eyes burned like twin suns in the dimly lit tent. "No," he said, more softly. "You cannot walk that path, nuur il-'en. There is too much light in you. No, if we are to continue our relationship, it must be on those terms, or not at all."
The wine was still swimming in Saiya's blood, lighting fires in her veins that burned with a dull anger. She said, "What would I be to you, then? Your kept woman? The steward of your house?"
"You would be the same thing you are now," said Baal calmly. "My safe place."
Your green valley in the mountains, Saiya thought unexpectedly, and the irritation that had been buzzing in her brain like a swarm of bees dissipated, leaving only clarity in its wake. She could now see the entire situation from Baal's perspective: his aching desire to belong somewhere, his conviction that he never would, or didn't deserve to. He needed her not as a wife, or a companion, but as a refuge – both from the world, and from his own pain.
"Yes," she murmured. "I'll do it."
Baal looked surprised, and it occurred to her that he had anticipated a rejection. Perhaps, she thought, she was not the only one feeling insecure about their relationship.
"Are you sure?" he said. "You don't have to answer right away. I know it's not an ideal arrangement … I mean-"
"I'll do it," she repeated. "Spending months apart from you is not such a high price to pay when the alternative is never seeing you again."
"It wouldn't be so bad," he said, and she wondered whether he was trying to convince her, or himself. "Having some time to yourself will probably prevent you from getting tired of me. 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder', or so they say."
"I have only one condition," Saiya said.
His expression turned wary. "Yes?"
"Well, it's more of a favor, really," she amended. "Before we put this plan in action, I'd like you to travel to Ivgorod with me. I want you to see my homeland, and meet my family at the temple. I'll understand if you can't, but …"
"I would love to," Baal interrupted her.
Unable to contain her joy, Saiya gave a little squeal and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly on the cheek. He returned the embrace, running one warm palm up and down her lower back while his other hand tangled in her hair.
"Ahebbouka," he breathed. "Menim meleyim, menim yalniz, menim ürek arzusu. Menim gün sonuna qeder, ahebbouka."
They didn't speak much after that.
Caesar awoke on the third day, around noon, though the first Saiya knew of it was several hours later, when a young lad who ran messages for the aged healer, Ghaine, approached her at the campfire and said that the wizard had requested to speak with her at her convenience. Saiya excused herself immediately and headed straight for Caesar's tent. He was sitting up, propped on a pile of pillows, an open book in his lap.
"That was prompt," he said when she ducked under the tent flap.
Saiya merely smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"
Caesar shrugged. "I'm alive, aren't I? That's really all I could ask for, given the circumstances. Leah told me what you and Ghor did for me. I don't know how I can ever begin to thank you. I never imagined that you'd go so far for … for me."
Saiya found herself at a loss for words. She sat down on the edge of his cot, fiddling absently with a tassel on one of the pillows. "It wasn't a hard decision," she mumbled at last. "I know you'd do the same for me."
"Yes," he said. "I would."
"So what will you do, now that Belial is dead?" she asked, trying to lead the conversation to a lighter topic.
"Wander the world, no doubt," Caesar drawled. "Same as before. Life on the road really isn't so bad, though I think I'll avoid desert regions from now on. The heat really doesn't agree with me."
I'll probably never see him again, Saiya realized, and barely managed to choke back a gasp at a wave of sorrow so strong it bordered on panic. I dragged him back from the land of the dead, but he's going to vanish from my life just as surely as if I had done nothing! And then, with an unbidden impulse, I can't let him go!
"Baal and I have decided to stay together," she said in a rush. "We talked about it, and we decided that there's no reason for us to separate, even though with his work as a Hunter, he'll be gone for long stretches of time. He wants me to find a place to settle down, and then whenever he's not off doing Hunter-type things, he'll have somewhere to go. You're welcome to come and stay with us whenever you like."
I'm babbling, she thought feverishly. What the hell is wrong with me?
Caesar, with his typical graciousness, nodded and said, "I would enjoy that."
They sat in silence for a moment, Caesar staring off into space, Saiya desperately trying to figure out where this wrenching ache had sprung from. Why should she feel as though her heart was about to split in two at the thought of the wizard going his own way?
We've gotten very close, she reasoned. Besides Baal, he's probably my best friend among our group. It's natural that I would miss him. But it was more than that, and she knew it. The knowledge made her ashamed, though she could not say for certain why.
"What on earth can you be thinking about, to put such an expression on your face?" Caesar asked, levity and concern occupying the same breath. With a start, Saiya jerked herself out of the weird trance she'd fallen into, and attempted a wan smile.
"Sorry, I was just remembering … it was really distressing, watching you die."
"I'm touched," he said, "but there's no need to torment yourself over it. I would have been no great loss to the world."
"That's not true!" Saiya protested hotly. "Everyone was upset about it. Baal-" She stopped, recalling her promise, but a wicked idea took hold of her: a bit of payback, she thought, for all the bickering that she had been forced to listen to. "Baal was absolutely frantic," she said.
Caesar's lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Oh yes. He even tried to revive you by … um … well, you know the technique he used to save Leah's life?"
"What?!"
"I don't think I've ever seen him that focused," Saiya elaborated, valiantly fighting off a telling grin. "He kept shouting, 'Come on, you can't die, you …' Well, you know Baal. He wasn't very polite. But I'm actually beginning to think that insults are his way of telling a person that he likes them. He's like a little kid in that respect."
An expression of pure horror was crawling across Caesar's face. "Okay, but he didn't do the full technique, did he?"
"If you mean the mouth-to-mouth breathing part …" Saiya trailed off, pausing for the best possible dramatic effect. "I'm afraid he did." She noticed with glee how the wizard's fingers flew to his lips, seemingly subconsciously.
"Oh …"
"Several times."
"Gods."
"At one point – I think it might have been during try number three – he said that he'd felt you responding, and we all thought that maybe it had worked, but-"
Caesar had gone very pale. "What do you mean, responding?"
"Well, you know, the way a person would normally respond to having another person's mouth on theirs. It's nothing to-"
"I think I'm going to throw up," Caesar announced, looking decidedly ill. Saiya decided that she'd done enough damage. Getting to her feet, she patted his knee.
"I'll let you get some rest," she said sweetly, and departed, feeling in much better spirits. The ache was gone.
The next day, Fahkri (having received word that the wizard was awake at last) held a ceremony to commemorate the dead, and honor the brave warriors whose strength had saved all of Kehjistan from ruin. The ceremony took place in the Fair-Weather court, which was so crowded with onlookers that there was scarcely room to move. It was a bold but strategic move on Fahkri's part, for the location still bore the scars from the battle with Belial, and served to remind naysayers, who felt that outsiders should not be esteemed as highly as a native, that they owed their lives to the intervention of those same outsiders.
Another remarkably courteous gesture on the future leader's part was to give his address in Khanduran, with a Kehjistani scholar translating beside him. There were many sullen murmurings from the nobles, but Saiya was grateful for the concession.
"People of Kehjistan," Fahkri began, his mild voice booming around the court. "My people. Give thanks to the gods that you stand here today, for we have withstood a great and terrible evil, and we have lived to tell stories to our children. Our city burned, but we will rebuild it. We fled their homes, but we will return to them once again. Our leader has fallen, and we must honor his sacrifice, for he died so that the evil could be vanquished. All hail Hakan the Second, last Emperor of Kehjistan! May the gods grace his passing into the Heavens, and may his spirit rest peacefully in the shining city!"
A swell of sound rose up from the crowd as a thousand voices cried out as one: "Bütün dolu! Bütün dolu Hakan!"
"Özünüzü izah, Fahkri!" shouted an elderly man in the front row, shaking his fist. "Biz imperatoru olmadan edirsiniz?"
"What did he ask?" Saiya asked Eirena in a whisper. "He looks displeased."
"He's wondering why Fahkri isn't going to take the title of Emperor," Eirena answered.
"A very good question, Qraf Huda," said Fahkri, with the glib and unruffled politeness of a trained diplomat. "It is my belief that the imperial system of government vests too much power in a single individual, and while a powerful figurehead might be an inspiration in a time of war, in peace a nation is best managed by a council of peers, each of whom specializes. That is why the position I have elected to occupy is Kansler. I know that it is unorthodox, but I strongly feel that if we adhere to the old ways, our country is doomed to diminish. I would see it thrive and grow again, into the hub of trade and jewel of knowledge that it once was. I would see the University reopened, and the Gardens of Almaz brought back to their former glory. I would see the Aqueducts mended, so that fresh water might flow through Caldeum's fountains once again."
A small knot of Fahkri's supporters called, "Bütün dolu!"
"But enough talk of politics." Fahkri waved a hand as if shooing away a bothersome insect. "This is no time for debate and theory. Today is for honoring the dead, and for praising our saviors. I have prepared gifts for each of them, humble tokens of our gratitude and respect, and I would like to call upon them now to accept. First and foremost: Saiya, of the Temple of the High Sun in Ivgorod."
With an encouraging smile, he motioned the young monk to join him on the slightly raised platform. For a hideous moment, Saiya thought that she might faint. Her feet were rooted to ground, and the hush from the crowd seemed less like anticipation and more like disapproval. She had expected to be called up, but not before everyone else, when all eyes would be fixed on her and her only!
"Go on," Baal murmured, nudging her in the ribs. As if he was a pebble whose fall begins an avalanche, the tiny motion was enough to break through her haze of panic. She slipped into a partial meditation as she walked forward to stand before Fahkri: enough to calm her nerves, but not too deep that she was unaware of her surroundings.
"I understand that it was you who struck the finishing blow against Belial," said Fahkri. "It is truly inspiring that a mortal being could be capable – was capable – of facing down such a mighty demon. On behalf of all the people of Kehjistan, I thank you, Saiya-" He bowed deeply. "-and for your service, I would like to bequeath to you this ring, which was designed by our greatest minds and forged by our most talented smiths. It is called Izaxtaran, and there are no others like it. It can be worn normally, but if held against the sun, it will project a compass rose, so that even in the wildest of regions, you will not lose your way."
Saiya's feeling of vertigo grew as she took the ring from Fahkri's outstretched hands. Turning, she gazed out over the crowd and managed a small, shaky bow.
"Tesekkür edirem, her kes," she stammered, piecing together what she hoped was a coherent sentence from the fragments of Kehjistani that she knew. "Men … uh, men seref … duyuram …?" Thankfully, no one laughed, though she did garner a few puzzled looks.
Baal was called up next, and Fahkri handed him a pair of black leather boots, studded with silver, that had been spelled to leave no footprints, and make no sound when the wearer walked. The politician had even prepared something for Gawahir: a set of platinum spurs, which included a capsule for carrying messages. The raven puffed up his chest as Baal carefully clipped them on.
Tyrael received a talisman containing the finger bone of Saint Aranoch, said to render the wearer impervious to cold, though Fahkri jokingly stated that protection from heat would probably have been more appropriate, but that the fabled Star of Azkaranth had been lost for many decades.
When Caesar's name was called, Saiya was almost certain that he would refuse to step forward. The wizard's face was grey and tense as he stepped up onto the platform, pointedly avoiding the open spot to Baal's left in favor of squeezing in between Saiya and Tyrael. Saiya touched his arm reassuringly and felt him tremble beneath her fingers. Taking in his glassy stare, she wondered if he was remembering the last time he had stood before an assembly, when Hakan had forced him to provide entertainment for the court.
"To you, Caesar la Volpes," said Fahkri, "I would return the belongings that were taken from you during your imprisonment here, and I would also beg your forgiveness on bended knee for the injustice that you suffered. I pray that you will not think unkindly of our people because of it."
"Oh, n-not at all," Caesar managed, his innate good manners taking over to dictate his reply. Then, as Fahkri handed over his reward, he exclaimed, "My hat! You found it!"
"Indeed," said Fahkri. "I am only sorry not to have recovered it sooner. And though it must seem a poor attempt at making reparations, please take these gloves. The inner material is mage-woven silk, and the outer is leather from the imperial cattle, the strongest and most pliable there is. May they serve you well!"
"Thank you," said Caesar, slipping on his new acquisition with a pleased expression. He flexed his fingers a few times, and then, with a flourish of his hand, snowflakes began to drift gently down from the perfectly clear sky. The children in the crowd squealed with delight, while the adults exclaimed wonderingly. The snow melted into nothing as soon as it landed, but continued to fall during the rest of the ceremony.
Ghor's blowpipe, darts, and original mojo were also restored to her, along with and beautiful but rather frightening mask of bleached bone, trimmed with gold and amethysts, and crowned with seven purple feathers of exceptional length and thickness. Fahkri informed her that they belonged to a mythical bird-serpent called the Quetzalcoatl, one of the rarest animals in existence, that could be found only in a particular valley deep in the eastern jungles. The feathers were imbued with magical properties of healing and would serve to ward off evil spirits.
Leah was given what appeared at first to be simply a collapsible paper fan, which she accepted graciously but with the slightest air of disappointment. However, Fahkri twisted the handle to reveal a dagger cleverly concealed within. The blade was paper thin, but as strong as diamond. For Adria, there was a belt made of white gold, crusted with gems set in the shape of flowers, said to have been crafted by Jang, a former archmage of the Thaumaturgy Guild in Xiansai.
"My people," Fahkri said, "these men and women you see standing before you destroyed the Lord of Lies, but they are not the only ones to whom we owe our gratitude. There are three others, faithful companions of our Heroes, who might have partaken in the glory of battle, but chose instead to remain in the city and assist in the rescue efforts, at great danger to their lives. Thanks to them, many people were saved. Kormac, Eirena, Lyndon – I have gifts for you also."
The three of them stepped up together. Eirena bore a dazzling grin, and Lyndon was all but strutting. Kormac just looked astounded, as though this was the last thing he had expected.
"To you, Kormac, the Pledge of Caldeum," said Fahkri, gesturing for two men-at-arms to come forward with a wrapped bundle carried between them. They tore aside the covering to unveil an ornate spear, taller than the Templar himself, with a long central blade flanked by two shorter prongs. Kormac accepted it reverently, hefting it to test the weight and balance.
"I will strive to prove myself worthy of such a weapon," he said, his voice husky with emotion.
"I have no doubt that you will," said Fahkri. "Eirena, I give you the Trag'Oul Coils. If you press the gem in the center of the floral design, it will open a secret compartment."
"Siz derin minnetdarligimi, kansleri var," Eirena said, accepting the lovely bracelets with a curtsy.
"Bu, menim zövq, xanim," Fahkri replied. "And for you, Lyndon, I have-"
"I need no reward, your majesty," Lyndon interrupted. Saiya and Baal exchanged a shocked and suspicious glance.
Fahkri, too, seemed taken aback, but he inclined his head respectfully. "All the same, I would not have you go empty-handed. Is there nothing that you desire?"
"Well … there is one thing," said the rogue, with a great show of reluctance. "I happen to have a price on my head at the moment. A simple misunderstanding, that's all, but very inconvenient to me. If there was any way you could come to, shall we say, an understanding with Madame Siva – she is familiar to you? – I would be most grateful indeed."
With a significant look, Fahkri motioned for the translator to be silent. Leaning in so that he could speak in Lyndon's ear, he murmured, "This is a tricky favor you ask. I would not even consider it for anyone else, but I am bound by my honor to assist you in any way I can. If word of this gets out, it could jeopardize my claim to the rule of Caldeum, so I would greatly appreciate if you would keep silent."
Winking, Lyndon mimed sewing his mouth shut and snipping off the thread. Fahkri stepped back, nodded to the translator, and resumed his regular speaking voice.
"As a final gesture, I gift all of you with a purse of such modest wealth as can be spared at the moment, as well as this badge, which marks the wearer as a Hero of the Realm, and grants free passage across Kehjistan, as well as the highest authority among our citizens."
Another man-at-arms came down the line and handed each of them a small bundle that clinked invitingly when agitated. Baal gave a short speech on behalf of the entire group, thanking Fahkri for his generosity, and vowing future aid to Kehjistan in the (hopefully unlikely) case of another demonic invasion.
The formalities over, Fahkri announced that a feast was to be held in the marketplace that night, and the crowd dispersed. Baal and Saiya agreed to return to the Hidden Camp and spend a few quiet hours together before the festivities began, but on their way out of the palace they were waylaid by Asheara. From her slow movements and pained expression, the commander was obviously still recovering from her brush with death, but she stood tall and proud as they approached.
"I would have a word with you, demon hunter," she said.
"What is it?" said Baal.
Her eyes flickered towards Saiya. "In private."
The young monk excused herself and retreated to a distance where the conversation was not quite audible, then pretended to observe a group of children playing ball while watching Baal and Asheara from the corner of her eye. Though her lover had seemed confident when he said that Asheara wouldn't decide to claim his life, she was still nervous.
After a few minutes' exchange, Baal knelt on one knee and bowed his head as if offering fealty. Then, to Saiya's complete horror, Asheara drew her sword and laid the naked edge along his jawline.
In the blink of an eye, she had warped behind the other woman and placed her hands on either side of her head. "Drop your weapon," she growled, "or I'll break your neck."
Asheara gave a little huff of surprise, and Baal exclaimed, "Saiya, what are you doing?"
"She was going to kill you!"
"No, she wasn't," he retorted, rolling his eyes.
"Calm yourself, girl," Asheara added. "This is custom, not a real threat."
"Custom? To hold a blade to his throat? What kind of custom is that?"
"I am metaphorically executing him," said Asheara. "After which, I will consider his debt to be cleared."
"I guess I should have warned you," Baal said. "My bad."
Mortified, Saiya dropped her hands and stepped away, muttering a guilty, "Sorry," under her breath to Asheara.
"You weren't to know," the Wolf said with the dry sarcasm that passed for kindness when coming from her. With a single expert movement, she drew the sword back and sheathed it, leaving a shallow cut, barely more than a thorn's scratch, on the tan skin of Baal's neck. Drops of blood beaded in several places along its length. Saiya felt the inexplicable urge to soothe the small wound with her tongue.
"Sizin heyat artiq menimdir," said Asheara. "Sülh yasayir." With a satisfied nod, she turned on her heel and strode away.
"There goes a woman," said Baal, watching her leave, "whose pride can withstand even the failure of her duty, and the death of all her hopes for the future. I don't know what Asiya was worried about."
Saiya's first action upon reaching the Hidden Camp was to head for the showers. She had taken one that morning, but it seemed that ever since returning from the wasteland, she could not truly feel clean no matter how often she washed or how hard she scrubbed her skin. Distantly, as she stood beneath the trickling water, she wondered if this bizarre behavior was a part of her personality now, like the way that she was still compelled to devour her entire meal within seconds of receiving it. She was slightly ashamed of it, thinking that perhaps it was a sign of impending madness, but she could not control the hunger that clenched at her guts whenever she saw food, nor could she rid herself of the sensation of being filthy.
"You endured a traumatic experience," said Ghor, when Saiya finally broke down and asked her about the compulsions. "It is only natural for the body to react to extreme stress in unusual ways. Do not trouble yourself over it. You will heal in due course."
I hope it happens soon, she thought as she toweled off. This is getting annoying.
It was only a short distance between the shower stalls and the tent she shared with Baal, so rather than bother to fully dress, Saiya simply wrapped the towel around her like a robe and scuttled quickly towards her temporary home.
But when she pushed aside the flap to enter, the person she saw was not her lover, but Leah, on her knees in the corner, rummaging through a rucksack. Saiya froze, but Leah saw her shadow and glanced up. Their eyes met and they stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment.
"What are you doing?" Saiya asked finally, unable to curb the displeasure in her tone.
Leah carefully replaced whatever object she was holding. "I'm sorry," she said. "I asked Ghaine's assistant to put my new dagger into my pack, but the silly boy got the wrong tent. I was just getting this back." She indicated the weaponized fan tucked into her belt.
"You were going through my pack," Saiya said, taking a step forward. "What were you trying to find?"
"Just my dagger," Leah repeated. "Honestly!"
Another step. "You had something in your hand when I came in. What was it?" Unconsciously, Saiya was beginning to drop into a fighting stance, her muscles trembling with unbridled aggression.
"Whoa, hey," Leah said, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "I was only looking, Saiya, I didn't mean any harm. I've been curious about that little hand mirror of yours for a while. The way you guard it, I thought it might be enchanted or something, but it's just a normal mirror. I really am sorry for prying."
The monk heaved a sigh, torn between irritation and relief. On the one hand, the thought of Leah touching her precious mirror rubbed her the wrong way, but at least she hadn't seen Baal reflected in it. Apparently she had yet to meet the love of her life.
"It's fine," she said. "Would you mind giving me some privacy? I'd like to get dressed."
Leah frowned. "Of course. See you at the feast tonight?"
"Yeah." Saiya watched the other woman leave, restraining the urge to physically shove her out of the tent. As soon as Leah was gone, she went to her pack and removed the mirror, unwrapping it and peering into it as if to verify that it hadn't been damaged. Baal's laughing face swam into focus; from the background images, he was somewhere in the vicinity of the main firepit.
Good, she thought. It still works.
But she could not shake the feeling of disquiet.
The banquet spread was unlike anything Saiya had ever seen in her life. Growing up at the temple, all meals had been served at the long oaken tables in the dining hall, or occasionally, during the summertime, outside on the grassy slopes of the mountain. On the road, she was used to eating meagerly and without much variation. Even Leah's delicious cooking or the exquisite breakfast that had been served at Fahkri's house couldn't rival the feast that the refugee chefs had prepared. It seemed to feature every edible thing in existence, and quite a few that Saiya was frankly skeptical about. One bowl contained what she thought were dumplings, but which upon closer inspection turned out to be sheep's eyes which had been breaded and lightly fried. Having handled them, she could hardly put them back, so she plopped them subtly onto Baal's plate when he wasn't looking. This backfired when, upon noticing them, he said, "Oh, Saiya, have you tried these qoyun göz? They were favorites of mine growing up. Here, have one!" He then carefully picked up one of the eyeballs and held it out to her.
She got revenge for this culinary assault later, however, when Eirena innocently asked, "Where are Ghor and Caesar?"
"They decided to stay in camp," Saiya replied. "Ghor wanted some alone time, I think, and Caesar's on a liquid diet until his stomach has recovered from the poison."
"You went to see him after he woke up, right?" Baal said, turning to her. "Perhaps you can explain the very strange encounter I had with him this afternoon."
Saiya's raised eyebrow invited him to continue.
"Well, it started when I stopped to ask him how his recovery was going. I honestly wasn't trying to sneak up on him, but I'd forgotten that these boots Fahkri gave me don't make any noise. Anyway, I guess he was startled, because he somehow managed to trip himself up trying to turn around. I caught him, of course, since I didn't want him to hurt himself falling down, and – I shit you not – he turned bright red as soon as I touched him. Then he babbled something along the lines of, "I'm sorry, thank you," and ran away. It was really odd."
"Maybe our dear wizard doesn't like the ladies as much as we thought," suggested Lyndon, in a conspiratorial tone.
"Oh, hell!" Baal groaned. "Please don't say that. That would be the last thing I need right now."
"Why are you looking so guilty, Saiya?" asked Eirena.
"What have you done?" demanded the Hunter. When she fidgeted, he slammed his palm down on the table in annoyance. "Damnit, Saiya, you told him I cried, didn't you?"
"You cried?" Lyndon howled. "Over Caesar, of all people? Oh, this is too good! A right pair of lovebirds, you two are!"
"Shut up, Lyndon. Saiya, you promised!"
"I promised I wouldn't tell him the truth," she said. "I never promised that I wouldn't lie."
"What? You mean you made something up?"
"I can't believe you actually cried!" Lyndon chuckled helplessly, tears leaking from his own eyes in his merriment.
Baal gestured rudely in his direction. "Don't make me hit you. So, if you didn't tell him the truth, what did you say?"
Saiya squirmed, embarrassed now that her deeds had come to light. "I may have insinuated that you administered a breath of life while he was unconscious."
"That was you!"
"Yeah, well." She shrugged. "My version was more entertaining."
"Great," Baal groaned, burying his face in his hands. "So what you're saying is, the stupid mage thinks that I practically kissed him. Thanks a lot, Saiya. Now I wish I'd never asked you to keep quiet about the crying thing."
"Actually," Saiya corrected, "he thinks that he kissed you. Accidentally. While you were trying to revive him."
"You're evil!" Eirena declared, hiding her giggles behind a discreetly placed handkerchief.
"I must concur," said Lyndon. "Poor Caesar. That would be a terrible blow to his ego. … On second thought, darling, I think you're my new hero. I salute your creativity."
Baal tilted his head back, inquiring of the heavens, "What did I ever do to deserve this?"
"You forced me to eat sheep eyeballs."
"That was long after you'd already betrayed me! Besides, you could have said that you didn't like them."
"That would have been rude."
"And making up some ridiculous story to humiliate me isn't?"
"Oh, where's your sense of humor, Baal? I only meant it as a joke." She could not resist adding, "I think you and Caesar would make a lovely couple. Opposites attract, isn't that how it goes?"
His only response was to deftly pluck another fried eye from the bowl and thrust it towards her, saying, "Another delicacy from your devoted slave, o cruel mistress." Saiya cravenly abandoned her post, shrieking as she fled around the marketplace with Baal in hot pursuit, dodging around campfires and ducking behind tents. The impromptu chase ended with both of them back at the blanket where they had started, breathless and laughing, holding their aching sides.
It was then that Saiya noticed the one person present who was conspicuously not enjoying the festivities: Kormac. The Templar had barely touched his plate, though he had always had a tremendous appetite for Kehjistani food. Even more unusual, perhaps, was the full glass of wine that sat beside him. His expression was distant.
"Are you okay?" Saiya asked, reaching over to touch his arm. The intrusion seemed to startle him out of his stupor.
"Ah, my apologies, Schwesterchen. I was deep in thought …"
"Want to share?" she asked tactfully, conscious that his gloomy demeanor could very well have to do with a certain petite blonde. But Kormac nodded slowly.
"Yes. In fact, I think I must. There is no better time to do it." He raised his voice, attracting the attention of the entire group. "My friends, I have an announcement to make. It has been my pleasure – no, my honor – to travel with you and fight by your side, but alas! For me, at least, our time together has reached its end. I can no longer delay my return to Westmarch, to give my long-overdue report on the matters concerned the demonic plague in New Tristram. It shall be much longer than the Elders anticipated … I do not envy them the task of reading it." He paused, and forced a laugh. The others smiled politely in response, though Saiya for one felt more like crying.
It's just sentimentality, she told herself. For gods' sake, girl, you're acting as if everyone is purposely deserting you. They aren't your parents!
That thought led to an interesting revelation. Could it be, she wondered, that the reason the inevitable separation of the group affected her so much was because subconsciously, she dreaded abandonment? To be unwanted and unneeded, to be left behind … these were the fears that preyed on her late at night, invading her dreams. Now that she truly considered it, practically all of the problems in her relationship with Baal (for her part, at least) stemmed from her conviction that he was going to leave her. Why? That's what people did. They left her.
A fragment of memory flashed through her mind, as abrupt and shocking as a bolt of lightning. A dry voice whispering poison in her ears as she lay fevered from the serpent's bite, "Alone. Abandoned. Unwanted. Weak. Guilty." This voice, she now realized, had belonged to Zoltun Kulle. In her most vulnerable state, he had probed into her mind and found her secret frailty, then viciously used it to turn her against those she loved the most.
Because I allowed him to, said the darker part of her mind that would try to sabotage any self-confidence she had if she let it. She pushed it away, having taken Ghor words very much to heart. She had made a mistake, that's all, and she had learned her lesson from it: don't permit the ghosts of long-dead sorcerers to posses you.
Her introspective thoughts were interrupted by the realization that Kormac was speaking to her, distress etched into his features.
"Please don't look at me like that, little sister," he begged. "I'm not looking forward to leaving, but I don't have much choice in the matter."
Saiya shook her head. "Sorry, Kormac. I was thinking about something else. I do understand why you have to go, though I'm going to miss you very much. Promise you'll write often?"
"I'll do better than that," he promised. "I'll visit whenever I'm granted the opportunity."
"I have never seen the capitol of Westmarch," Eirena said dreamily, "but I hear that it is magnificent. City of the Light, they used to call it in my day."
"It is called that still," said Kormac. "Built on the seaside hills, surrounded by the Insurmountable Wall … there is no fortress to match it in a siege, except perhaps its sister Bastion's Keep to the north, which was built to keep out the Barbarians."
"I was in Westmarch once, briefly, four or five years ago," remarked Baal. "A merchant there contracted me to exterminate a horde of demonic rats that were decimating his stock and devouring his animals. I didn't get to see much of the city, but I'll never forget the cathedrals."
The Templar turned suddenly to Eirena, who was sitting beside him, and took her scarred hand in both of his. "Come with me," he said, his voice low and somewhat uneven.
Eirena looked startled, but she did not pull away. "To Westmarch?" she said.
Kormac nodded. "Yes. I could … I could give you a tour, and … I would be privileged to have you by my side, Eirena."
There was a long, uncomfortable moment while Eirena said nothing, Kormac hung on her every breath with undisguised longing, and everyone else (except perhaps Lyndon, who loved melodrama) desperately wished that they could spontaneously vanish.
Only Kormac could think to propose without actually saying, 'Marry me,' thought Saiya with equal parts pity and exasperation. And only Eirena would be daft enough not to notice what he's really asking for.
The excruciating silence came to an end at last when Eirena gently extricated her hand from Kormac's grasp and said, in a tone of unusual solemnity, "I cannot. I'm sorry, for I truly would like to, but I have made up my mind to stay here in Caldeum. It is here that I shall find the truth of what happened to my sisters."
Kormac nodded in gracious understanding. He did not plead his case, nor even mention it again, but when he left the next morning before dawn, Saiya saw in his eyes a shadow of the same grief she had felt when Baal left her in New Tristram. She held her friend tightly, knowing that no words could comfort him.
"Travel safely, Kormac," she said when he finally released her.
"Best of luck to you," said Baal. "You've been a great friend."
The Templar shook hands with him, and then with Tyrael, Lyndon, and Caesar. The entire had come to see him off, with the notable exception of Leah. No one had really expected Adria to make an appearance, and no one missed her. The witch's aloof attitude had not been very conducive to the forging of friendships.
"I thought Leah at least would be here," Saiya muttered, adding her absence as another mark on the growing list against her.
"She was acting very odd last night," said Baal, in an undertone. "I'm a little worried, actually. I saw her coming out of her tent very late, after the feast, looking as though she'd seen a ghost."
"Her mother's a bad influence on her, if you ask me," Caesar put in, having apparently overheard the conversation. "Haven't you noticed the change in her since Adria joined us? She almost never socializes with the group anymore, and when she does there's an edge to it, as though she doesn't fully trust us."
Saiya thought of mentioning the bizarre incident with her mirror, and decided against it. She could hardly put into words why she had reacted so negatively when she didn't understand it herself.
"Adria has been teaching her to use magic," said Baal. "And considering her background, I think it's safe to assume that it isn't the sparkly, happy kind."
"No," Caesar agreed. "More like the bloody, sacrificial kind. On the other hand, without Adria's help, we would never have been able to defeat Belial."
"The same could be said for Zoltun Kulle," Baal pointed out, and the wizard flinched.
"True, true. Can I take that to mean that if Adria double-crosses us, you wouldn't hesitate to ensure that she shares the same fate?"
Baal fingered the handle of his favorite crossbow. "If she does betray us, rest assured – I'll make what she did to Kulle look like an act of kindness."
Kormac, meanwhile, had finished saying his goodbyes to everyone save for Ghor and Eirena. He approached the sangoma first, and (to the great surprise of the entire gathering) got down on one knee, inclining his head in a pose reminiscent of a knight kneeling before his queen.
"My lady," he said, "you offered friendship to me once, and I did not know how to respond. I would part from you now having accepted it. I am aware that we have had … certain difficulties … in the past, due entirely to my own beliefs. For that, I apologize. I have never met a better, wiser woman than you … rafiki."
A radiant smile bloomed across Ghor's face, the first true smile Saiya had seen from her since she had lost her loa. Framing Kormac's face in her hands, she bent to kiss to his forehead and murmur something audible only to him. He smiled in return and rose, squeezing her shoulder affectionately before turning to Eirena.
Saiya waited, holding her breath, to see if the enchantress had had a change of heart, but though Eirena looked sad to be parting from a cherished companion, there was an underlying contentment in her features: the look of someone who knew their path in life.
"Take care of yourself, meine Teuerste," Kormac said. "God willing, our paths will cross again."
"I'm sure of it," said Eirena. Standing up on her tiptoes, she pecked Kormac on the cheek. He did an admirable job of keeping his composure, but as he mounted the sturdy bay horse that Asheara had loaned him for the long trek to Gea Kul, Saiya saw him touch the spot where her lips had been.
They watched him ride into the distance until his form was no longer visible amid the dust kicked up by his steed. Then, swallowing a lump in her throat, Saiya turned to her friends and said, "Well, how about some breakfast?"
Saiya and Baal spent the majority of the day planning for their own departure to Ivgorod. They reserved places on a caravan that was leaving the next week, and browsed the newly reopened bazaar for a few hours, picking up any last-minute necessities. Saiya had been shocked by the amount of gold that Fahkri considered "modest" – it was a greater fortune than she had ever had in her life, though as Baal pointed out, she would probably have to spend most of it to afford a house, even if he split the cost with her.
They ate dinner at the tavern, avoiding the table where Lyndon was gambling away his reward money, and afterwards strolled along the rampart of the outer wall in the sunset light, surveying the damage that Belial's attack had done to the city. The imperial palace was mostly untouched, but elsewhere whole buildings had been demolished, entire streets still covered under tons of rubble, craters littering the courtyards. The river had been partially dammed by a falling guard tower, creating a flooded zone.
"It's a real mess," Baal observed. "It'll be years before it's back to the way it was."
"At least there's a city left to rebuild," Saiya replied. "And if anyone is up to the task, it's Fahkri. He's a born leader."
"Yes," Baal nodded. "I think he'll do well, though the nobles will fight him every step of the way. Are you cold, nuur il'-en? You're shivering."
"Just a little. I guess I've gotten used to the desert climate."
Baal unhooked his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. She smiled up at him, leaning in to steal a kiss.
"You seem to have cleared things up with Caesar," she said.
"Yes," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I'm not sure who was more relieved to know that you made it all up: him or me. You really are a horrible person, you know."
"The worst," Saiya agreed, trailing her fingers down the side of his neck, over the scratch left by Asheara's blade. Baal shuddered under the sensual touch, his eyes drifting closed of their own accord.
"What do you say we head back to camp?" he proposed.
"Fine by me," Saiya said. They started off promptly, stopping every now and then for a heated exchange in some dark corner, and by the time they finally made it to the top of the cliffside trail, she was aching with need. She began to pull Baal towards their tent, but he halted in place, staring into the deep shadows beneath the rock face.
"Who's there?" he asked.
Leah stepped forth, a thick book clenched tightly in her arms, her huge eyes reflecting the moon. Her face was as pale as death.
"Baal, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked.
Saiya was about to say that this wasn't the greatest time, but an unspoken message seemed to be passing between Baal and Leah. The Hunter turned to her and said, "Saiya, why don't you go ahead? I'll be right behind you."
Her romantic mood soured somewhat, she nodded brusquely and made a conscious effort not to stomp away. Trust it to Leah to intrude on what should have been a very nice, private evening with her lover. She wished now that she had suggested finding a room in the city.
A bit of her fire began to reignite as she stripped slowly down and lay on the bed, which was in reality both of their bedrolls lashed together to form a larger mattress. She fondled her breasts with one hand while the other dipped between her thighs, stroking and teasing. She didn't want to finish before Baal arrived, but she did want to be ready for him. She waited …
… and waited …
… and waited. Eventually, the torture became too much for her and she brought herself to a harsh and rather unsatisfying climax. Still nude, goosebumps rising on her flushed skin, she stared moodily up at the canvas ceiling and wondered what could be taking so long.
Nearly half an hour later, Baal came striding into the tent, jerking the flap closed behind him with unnecessary roughness. Saiya sat up, irritation changing into concern at the stormy expression on his face.
"What is it?" she asked. "What's the matter?"
He opened his mouth, then seemed to choke back the words. "I can't tell you," he said. "I gave my word not to tell anybody."
"Is something wrong with Leah?" she pressed.
He nodded, then said, "I can't say any more. Please don't ask."
"Alright," Saiya murmured, regretting her unkind thoughts about the other girl. "Alright, I won't ask. Come here."
Baal paced over to her: a wild animal in a cage, fierce and desperate. She placed her hands on his shoulders, stilling him. "Lie down," she instructed. "Let me take care of you."
He did as she asked, though his eyes remained wary. Moving with an assurance she didn't feel, Saiya undid the clasps of his vest, and the ties of the soft shirt beneath, baring his chest to the lantern light. She kissed each clavicle tenderly, rubbed her nose in the meager patch of hair, licked a trail down his abdomen to his navel. Then she reached for the button of his trousers, noting the way his stomach muscles clenched almost involuntarily.
"Sh," she whispered, pausing to make eye contact with him. "Let me do this for you, Baal. I want to do this. Please."
He seemed to hear the subtext hidden in her voice – trust me. He nodded fractionally and let his head drop back against the pillow, though his body stayed tense. Saiya resumed her work, draped over his legs so that her face was positioned above his groin. She freed him from his underclothes, finding him already hard from her ministrations.
His cock twitched as she pressed her lips against it tenderly, and he groaned, a sound of mingled pleasure and pain. Saiya knew all too well what the issue was; she had enough sexual experience by now to work out that the last time he'd had a woman's mouth on him had been … traumatic, to say the least. But despite his obvious discomfort, she felt compelled to continue, wanting to erase those bad memories from his mind and rewrite them with something new and better. Something healing.
Tugging his pants down slightly, her questing fingertips located the small, pale scar on the inside of his thigh, where Vera's knife had cut him. He flinched when she brushed against it.
"S-stop," he stammered. "Don't-"
"Baal, look at me," she said firmly. "It's me. It's Saiya. I love you, I'd never hurt you, never. Let me show you that."
He stared at her for one more, long-drawn-out moment, and then his head fell back as though a string supporting it had been cut. She took this sudden submission as a sign that she could safely proceed, though to be certain, she lifted her free hand and tucked it into his.
"If you need me to stop, squeeze three times, okay?" she said. He nodded in comprehension, and she set to work, using the vibrant recollection of his actions during their previous encounters as a guide. It was a strange sensation at first, and she found that she could not fit more than the head of him into her mouth without choking, but she gradually warmed to the task, enjoying the ragged sounds he made as she plied lips and tongue. His hand clamped down on hers sporadically, but never more than once in a row – she kept careful track.
Taking a quick break to catch her breath and swallow some of the saliva that had gathered in her mouth, she whispered, "How are you doing?"
"Mm," he grunted.
"Is that good?"
A breathy moan.
"So I should keep going …?"
"Mm!"
Trying not to grin, she lowered her head again, taking him as far as she could and sucking hard. Baal seemed to respond well to her enthusiasm, hips bucking rhythmically. Saiya began to feel the heat of arousal building in her core. It was undeniably exciting to be able to get this sort of reaction from him.
She swiped her tongue over him in a broad stroke, and Baal's fingers tightened on hers, released, and tightened again. When the third squeeze came, she withdrew immediately, just as he overflowed with a spasm and a muffled cry.
"Are you alright?" Saiya gasped, horrified at the thought that she might have pushed him too far.
Baal nodded, his eyes glazed over. "Fine," he rasped. "Marvelous, in fact."
"Why did you give the signal?"
"Some people don't like the taste," he explained. "I didn't want your first time doing this to be unpleasant."
"Oh," she said. "That was considerate." Curious, she dabbed a finger in the white liquid pooling on his lower stomach and brought it to her tongue.
"You're right, this is kind of bitter," she mumbled. Struck by a sudden thought, she touched herself and sampled that as well, making a face. In her opinion, Baal got the worse end of the deal when it came to flavor.
He snorted, and she glared at him. "What?"
"You look like a cat whose milk has curdled," he said. "Not to your liking?"
"Not really," she admitted. "I don't know how you stand it! I mean, I don't have to put up with it until the very end, but you're tasting that constantly."
With a burst of energy, he sat upright, resting his arms on his knees. "Ah, but the difference, my dear girl, is that I enjoy it. Quite a lot, in fact." His tone was suggestive, as was the burning gaze he swept her with.
Saiya turned bright crimson. "I … uh, I already …" When he gave her a reproachful look, she snapped, "Well, you took forever!"
To her surprise, he accepted this explanation meekly, saying, "Will you permit me to make it up to you, then?"
"And how would you do that?" she asked with a teasing smile. "Are you going to ravish me, like you did the other night?"
Baal frowned. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea right now." He gestured at the seed he had yet to wipe away. "We'd run the risk of some of this getting inside you."
Saiya nodded in understanding, recalling the day when they had made love in the showers. She hadn't thought about it since – the mess with Zoltun Kulle had wiped most other concerns from her mind completely – and a cold chill came over her as she realized that she hadn't bled on time.
Or maybe I did, and can't remember, she thought. I wasn't aware of much that happened during the week I was possessed. I could have bled then. And even if I didn't, it doesn't necessarily mean …
"Something wrong?" Baal inquired. Saiya cursed her lover's keen observational skills.
"No," she lied. There was no point in troubling him with vague suppositions about what might or might not have happened. Tomorrow, she would ask Ghor if she had bled. If anyone would know, it would be the sangoma.
Baal was retrieving something from her pack, a length of red fabric that Saiya recognized as the sash of her Iron Wolf armor. Saiya watched him nervously as he approached her with it.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I thought we could try something a little different," he said. "If you're willing, of course."
"Um, what do you need that for? You're not going to tie me up, are you?"
He grinned roguishly. "Not unless you want me to, my little love. No, I had something a bit different in mind."
Moving behind her, he carefully bound the cloth over her eyes, checking to make sure that it wasn't too tight. Saiya could see the dark, blurry outline of his form through the blindfold, as well as a pinprick of light from the lantern, but not much else. She felt a little uncomfortable at first, unsure of his intentions, but as soon as he touched her – just the barest whisper of his fingertips across the back of her neck – she understood the purpose of covering her eyes. The sensation was magnified many times over. She was acutely aware of the slight pressure, the warmth and roughness of his callused skin, the delicious tickle that trailed behind his hand, driving her nearly made with the desire to scratch at it.
"Good, yes?" Baal murmured, his voice gravelly with lust. His tongue slid out to caress the shell of her ear, nibbling the lobe. From there, Saiya allowed him to explore the rest of her body, reveling in every bite, every kiss, every touch. He was playful and tantalizing, thorough and passionate. By the time his lips reached the valley between her thighs, she was shaking with anticipation, and her release came hard and fast, staggering in its intensity. For several long minutes afterwards she lay as limp as a gutted fish, while Baal sprawled beside her and stroked her hair.
"I love you," he whispered presently. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know," she replied. "I love you too."
"Good." There was something melancholy in his tone, and he way he sighed as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Never forget that. No matter what happens, I love you."
Saiya wanted to ask him what he meant, why he sounded so forlorn, but they were both so relaxed after making love, and she couldn't bear to see the stress from earlier return to his handsome features.
I'll ask him tomorrow, she decided, and rolled over to press herself closer to his chest. Listening to his steady heartbeat, Saiya fell asleep.
She dreamed of rain.
She woke alone, Baal's side of the bedroll empty and cold, though dawn had barely kissed the horizon. He had tenderly tucked the blankets back around her when he rose. Saiya sat up, frowning. His boots and pack were gone, and there was no sign of Gawahir either. This did not alarm her unduly, but when she noticed a folded slip of paper propped against her pack, a prickle of unease set her hairs on end. She stretched out a hand for it.
Nuur il'-en, it read, in Baal's graceful script. You always scold me for not leaving notes, so here you are. This isn't easy to write. The next few words had been viciously scratched out. I need to leave for a while. I can't tell you where I'm going or when I'll be able to see you next, only that I am on an errand of the utmost urgency; please believe me when I say that nothing less could take me away from you. I don't expect you to easily forgive this, but I hope, foolishly, that you'll wait for me. When my task is over, I will go to the Temple of the High Sun in Ivgorod, and perhaps I will find you there. Until that day, know that you are forever in my thoughts and in my heart. I meant what I said last night. More than anything else I've ever known in this world, I love you, Saiya. It was signed with a simple B.
Clutching the note to her chest, Saiya curled up in the blankets that still carried his scent, and wept.
Baal trudged slowly up the road towards the abandoned cottage where he had arranged to meet Leah. Gawahir, silent for once, perched on his shoulder, and the raven's familiar presence was soothing after the gut-wrenching experience he'd just suffered. Kissing Saiya's sleeping face and walking away from her, possibly forever, had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life. He felt as though he'd cut his own heart out and left it behind in the tent with her.
After what Leah had told him the previous night, he'd had no choice, and all he could hope for is that Saiya would understand that.
She won't, hissed the cruel side of his mind, the voice he thought of as his Inner Vera. She'll never forgive you. You're abandoning her, just like her parents did, and she'll hate you for it.
Baal bit down on his lip until it split under his teeth, a coppery taste flooding his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to care; physical pain was nothing compared to his emotional torment. For a moment, he cursed his own nature, wanting nothing more than to spin around and run back to the Hidden Camp, tear the note into pieces, and crawl back into bed before Saiya could wake to find him gone.
But I can't. I can't. It's for her sake that I'm doing this. I can't risk her life against the evil that awaits me. It's far too powerful …
He had almost reached the shack. Three dark silhouettes were framed against the silvery sand, one tall and broad, the other two slender.
"You've come after all," Adria said, her eyes as cold as the stars as she examined him. "I wasn't sure that you would."
"I have to, don't I?" he said bitterly. "How can I call myself a Hunter if I run from my prey?"
"No one would blame you, my son," said Tyrael. "You have other responsibilities." Baal could not be sure, but he thought there was a hint of rebuke in the angel's voice.
"By going with you, I'm attending to them," he said. "Now let's hurry. If your vision was true, Leah, there's no time to waste."
The girl hesitated, glancing between him and the empty road behind him. After a moment she said, hesitantly, "Saiya's not coming?"
Baal shook his head curtly. "No."
"I see." That was definitely disapproval he saw in her face, but he ignored it. Let Leah think whatever she wanted, his only motivation was protect the woman he loved.
Adria, impatient as always with the delay, heaved an annoyed sigh and waved her hand, opening a portal.
"Enter," she said. "This will take us to Bastion's Keep, where we can convene with the commander there and discuss a strategy for how to handle this oncoming invasion."
Leah hurried through, followed by Tyrael. Baal moved to follow them, but Adria's voice lashed out like a whip.
"Do not bother, boy, unless you can leave her memory behind you. Loving thoughts have no place on the battlefield. They will only get you killed."
"How would you know?" said Baal. "You've never had one."
He breathed deeply, took one last look at the shining desert, and stepped into the portal.
* Baal's sappy little speech goes: "My angel, my only, my heart's desire. Until the end of my days, I love you."
* "Bütün dolu!" means "All hail!"
* Qraf is the Kehjistani equivalent of Count.
* Kansler is Chancellor.
* Saiya said (kind of brokenly ;P) "Thank you, everyone. I am honor."
* Eirena said, "You have my deepest gratitude, Chancellor." And Fahkri answered, "It is my pleasure, my lady."
* Asheara said, "Your life is mine no longer. Live in peace."