Chapter 6

Taliesin felt weightless. He felt the hardness of a shoulder pressed into his stomach. “Put me down, please.” Bryndall didn’t even grunt as he placed Taliesin on the ground - almost as if he were a toy. “What’s going on? I thought we were going to the cave, Bryndall?”

Seren peaked her head out from the other side of the giant man.

“Oh, I guess you didn’t need my help after all.” Taliesin’s body felt sore all over again. He tried walking - but it felt like twenty people punched him at the same time. He wobbled a step then fell to the ground. “Was I fodder?”

“You could say that.” Seren replied.

With great focus, he was able to get upright again, and start walking. “Bara, help me.” He said trying to keep his head in one place. “Are we too far from the house?”

“You really do sound like a prince.” Seren snorted.

Taliesin whined, “you told her?”

“No, she figured it out.” The man grunted.

The prince’s head hurt as he tried to understand the sarcastic undertone. There was a disgusting taste in his mouth as if he swished bile around in there. He touched an unknown liquid on his face, it was nearly dry. He brought his fingers to his nose. Bile again. “What…”

The two ignored him as he was struggling to cope with being covered in someone else’s fluid. He felt a thicker liquid on his chest and sleeves. Blood. He searched his own body, trying to uncover the source of it. Besides the soreness, he didn’t feel the familiar sting of an open wound. Instead, he found more blood. It wasn’t just on his chest and sleeves, upon closer inspection, he noticed that he was covered with it.

“Whose blood is this Bryndall? How many did you-”

“Two.”

“Did you bleed them dry?”

“Just stop talking.” Seren said.

Taliesin reeled back a little from the hostility.

“What’s going on? What did I do?”

She only responded with silence. The prince thought for a moment. He was desperate for an amicable reception.

“Sere-”

“Don’t say my name.” She hissed again.

“Look, I-”

Bryndall gave the young prince a look, somehow, without words - he understood. Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned.

The prince’s existence was brought on by the death of Seren’s parents. An eclectic swirl of emotions boiled inside her. Years of stagnant and unchanneled anger over a decade’s course of grief came steaming out in the form of hostility.

Dunmouth was lit by the ambient houses, while their residents came back from near death. It highlighted the town, as if it were a beacon of familiarity. Only a few minutes of marching remained for the prince. He remembered the bathhouse that was adjacent to Gryfalcon’s Perch. He let out a breath of relief, thinking that he didn’t have to suffer for much longer.

“The bathouse is closed for a few more hours.” Seren said with a saccharine smile.

“I don’t even know why I’m covered like this.” The prince complained.

“You really don’t remember.” Bryndall said.

Taliesin, now exasperated, “Don’t remember what?!”

“That blood is your doing.”

“It can’t be, I just shot a few arrows… And then-” he hesitated a moment, “I saw one of the men who killed my fr-” His face contorted. He started to dry heave. Flashes of images poured into his brain, as if it were a waterfall of gore. Each lifeless body was a nail that was hammered through his skull. He could barely handle the sheer amount of blood-ridden faces. Many were stuck in the expression of pure terror. He almost fell to the ground again. Once he was able to cope with the nonstop horrors, he realized something. “The soldiers’ uniforms, they’re Durlesian… but they’re… they’re not ours.”

The hamsarian sneered, “It’s hard to imagine that there’s anyone from Durley who’s pleasant to be around.”

Bryndall started, “he’s right, they haven’t used those uniforms since I was a baker, the crest, it’s missing a star. If you don’t know the reason, and if you don’t look for it, it’s easy to miss.”

“And the mages, we don’t use Amon’s source. You’d have to be insane to accept his wealth.”

“Or desperate.” Bryndall replied with a solemn undertone.

The group of tired combatants were nearing their home. Borus woke up a little to greet them with a soft chirp. Then, he fell back asleep.

“I don’t understand.” Seren said, “when I use akibon, it doesn’t feel like it’s coming from anywhere - it just exists.”

“Bara’s essence, or akibon, is the source of life in this realm.” Taliesin started, “When you use it into tangibility, you ground it with your kurnyit. Some people with enough meditation, can use magic without one. Bara - for whatever reason - created imitations of herself. They formed their own identities over time and a- "

“I didn’t ask for a lesson. If you’re so knowledgeable about magic, why don’t you use it?”

“I can’t. Even with a thousand kurnyits - akibon doesn’t respond to me. I can’t even feel it.”

“It probably knows how privileged you are.”

Seren opened the door to her domicile. A refreshing tinge of a smoldering fire and leftovers lightened her mood a little bit. The looming scent of vile darkened it. She held the door for her dad. He quickly walked in, side stepping his irate daughter. Taliesin took a step towards the door.

“There’s water I use to wash Borus.” She pointed with her chin, “it’s cold.” She closed the door at the end of her statement.

Taliesin heard the latch shortly after he felt the breezy promise of comfort.

“What do you want from me? What did I do wrong? What can I do?” He pleaded against the door.

He heard a shout back. “Stop breathing!” Followed by a stormy set of stomping.

He walked towards the covered nesting. There was a large wash basin near the shack. He tried the water with his hands. He winced at the freezing water. He formed a bowl with his hands. He tried to cup a bit of the water. Then, he rubbed away the bile from his cheek. His cheek and hands started to feel numb. He was still desperate enough to continue. Next, was his hair. He cupped some more liquid fire with both of his hands. With a bit of hesitation, he applied it to his hair, trying to wash it out. He repeated this a few more times.

Bracing against the cold reminded Taliesin of a door he couldn’t keep closed. Even if he put his entire body against it, the door would stay open. A second of stagnation, meant embracing the unforgiving touch. He knew he had to open the door, so that he could wash away his victim’s blood.

He struggled to unlace some of his reinforced garments. His hands were turning into ice themselves. Somehow, he was able to uncover most of his reinforcements. Just his boots remained. Carelessly, he plopped on the ground and attempted to untie his boots. His hands shook violently. After a couple minutes of trying, he gave up - only one foot was kept laced.

His teeth were nearly glued together from the amount of grimacing. The door to the gryfalconer’s house opened. Seren was holding a large pot, steam was coming out of it. While walking over to the wash basin, she glared at the prince. Her eyes were colder than the water. Without saying a word, she poured the boiling water into the basin. Then walked back inside the house. Taliesin again, heard the latch.

Taliesin wanted to dive into the water. Fighting his desire, he tried it with his hands. It felt like thousands of needles pierced his skin as the numbness resided. He couldn’t resist letting out a moan of ecstasy. He noticed a small wooden bowl near the basin - wishing he found it earlier. Before he made an attempt to grab it, he unlaced the rest of his boots.

He spent the next few minutes washing his garments and hanging them to dry against the shack. After he felt satisfied from washing his equipment, he took off the oversized tunic. None of its formerly white appearance was shown. It was replaced with a pungent red hue. Taliesin placed it near the wash basin, figuring it was best to clean it after he washed the blood off his body.

The door opened again, Seren held another pot of steaming water. The same icy glare ensued. This time, she was grumbling under her breath. It gave Taliesin the notion that the pleasantries weren’t out of her own goodwill. Taliesin covered his bare torso - he felt like a deerling caught in the view of a predator. While Seren poured in the water, she cocked her head with a fiendish grin.

“Good luck finding a towel.” She headed back inside.

Barely a second later she reemerged with a towel. Her eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head.

“Why do you hate me?” Taliesin said through his teeth chattering.

She placed the towel near the basin, she took a second to fight the urge to throw the towel in the water.

“What did I do?” He pleaded some more.

“You lived.” She drew in a long breath, and closed her eyes when she exhaled. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then what’s going on?”

She looked up, her sullen expression returned, “You killed my parents.” Then she shook her head. “No, you didn’t. But you were the cause of their death. But they volunteered. But- I don’t know who to blame. I need to blame someone. And now, you’re here.” She finished by gritting her teeth.

Taliesin stood for a moment unsure how to respond. “If it helps, I didn’t have the childhood you probably think I had. There’s irony in it I’m sure. But, I don’t think I’ve ever heard any words love and you in the same sentence from my father. There wasn’t even an overwhelming expectation for me to fulfill his shoes - I’m nearly certain that he didn’t believe I could handle the task. I know it was childish of me to act so rebellious against my father - I-I just wanted to be noticed. But I was sent away instead - as if I bothered him too much. The best thing is, I found people who cared about me. They wanted to be around me. They were everything to me, Seren… I would give my entire status, my stupid pastries, all of my wealth, everything, just for a minute with them again.”

Seren inhaled calmly and looked over at Borus, “Just hurry up.” She went inside for the last time. No sound of the latch followed.

Taliesin closed his eyes and considered what she said. So many lives that were lost for a broken boy playing hero. In many ways, he felt culpable for it. The guilt was like an itch in the back of his mind that he could never reach, forever exigent, never quelled. He took off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the bath to reflect on the matter more.

Unfortunately for him, the water was cold.