A Time for Revenge

Bastra turned from the gathering at the Sea Fairer Inn and ran. He felt lighter in heart and soul than he had since the death of his closest friend, Dan Derune. His son, now a man himself, was sitting at the same table his father had sat so long ago retelling tales of his adventures. Dan would be proud of his son, there was no doubt in his mind about that.

He let a roar of joy out, calling out to his youngest sibling. If Curlat was still in Selane, he would hear it. After such a long time away, he was finally going to be home and see his family. But there was pain within him as well. He had yearned to see them all ever since they had left Juiint. But ever since the death of Sutert, he had felt the need to explain himself to not only his father, but to Sutert’s family as well. That was not something that he was looking forward to, but it had to be done.

Behind him he heard the sound of pounding feet and claws on the ground and knew that he was being followed. He smiled proudly. Curlat had grown to be a mighty young scout. One day, he may even become strong enough to gain a title among their people. Perhaps one day soon, their titles may even mean something among the other races. Mendoll was a good man, a human that was honorable beyond any other than Dan, and now Mach. Both were fighting for a future that would lead their people into an age where they could live in peace outside of hiding. But Mendoll was fighting for more than that. He was fighting for a future that would be brighter for all the races, a future where even a tiny village of Gargoyle would be welcome. A future like that, a future where his people would be as honored and their skills sought after and respected, would mean so much. If that day came, than perhaps more of his people may come here. More villages spread out across what is becoming the Kingdom of the Empire Seas.

That thought was soul lifting, as much so as seeing that boy sitting at that particular table. Being able to see his old friend in his new one.

He was outside the town gates of Selane now without realizing that he had ran this far. There was so much weight lifted from his shoulders, so much of the pain that he had kept buried inside had been eased. He leapt onto a boulder, threw his wings out and pushed off hard. The wind rushed passed his face as he beat down with his wings, enjoying the freedom that could only be found from flight. He heard the second pair of wings snap open and a moment later he could see Curlat out of the corner of his eye as he glided on the winds. He pumped his wings enough to gain the needed elevation, wholly enjoying the sensations rippling through his body, leveled out and aimed for home. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the wind rush by him, the call of the birds and animals in the forest below him. He was home.

He heard the call of the Guard and opened his eyes. Ahead he could see Madtu, its wooded buildings only discernible because of the openness of the village. Perhaps one day they may plant trees within the town, creating a forest within to better hide it. Or just to bring us a tiny bit of the old lands here in the new. A little reminder of home for those who have lived long enough to see both.

He glided down and landed just in front of the gates, a proper custom to returning home. It was considered rude to land inside the walls, any who did would be considered a threat. Standing at Guard were three faces he barely recognized. They were all just as young as Curlat, but their change over the last year and a half was remarkable.

“Good day.” The oldest of the group said as he approached to the gate. Another proper greeting that was taught to the Guard. If they were watching the gates, treat the traveler as a traveler until you can prove different. Though, he could tell by their smirk that they were toying with him. The twinkle of mischief in their eyes was enough to show just where this may go.

“And to you. Requesting permission to pass.” He bowed his head respectfully, perhaps a bit too flamboyantly. He heard Curlat snicker behind him as raised his head.

“I am afraid not, weary traveler.” The oldest of the group responded. “You may be a spy, attempting to infiltrate our home. We cannot allow passage. Be gone with you.”

“Indeed, perhaps.” He smiled mischievously as he pulled his spear from his back, holding it out in front of him as if he was not quite sure how to use it. “I could be a spy. But yet I could be an assassin too, or perhaps a mighty warrior. Sent to whittle down the enemy numbers for my Lord and commander.” He twirled the spear around in now one hand with a flourish that only a master spearman could do and snapped it downward toward the three, swaying it between them. “Which one would care to test where my loyalties lay?”

The look on their faces was priceless. It had been more than a decade since he had felt up to this kind of gag, he knew these younglings did not understand what he was doing. They had always thought of him as serious in everything that he did. He was confident that they thought him serious now. The fear that was in their eyes was almost enough to make him break his concentration.

“I will take that challenge.” A familiar voice boomed out from behind the trio. Bastra looked up to see his elder brother, Besthren, walking up to the gate. He replaced his spear back into its latches behind his back. “It is good to see you are alive, brother.” The two were only alike in a few ways. Though their mothers were different, both shared the same father who was the current Elder of the village. They both had yearned to defend their people, becoming Scouts and Guards. But as Besthren went on to become the Captain of both those those groups, Bastra had found himself leading a different path. One that had led him to Mendoll, and then to Dan. Through them he had done just as much for his people and now, with Mach, he may be doing far more. With one swift movement, the two brothers locked arms at the elbow and pulled each other in for an embrace.

“It is good to be home, even if it is only for a day or so.” He answered, letting go of the others arm. “What have you been feeding these younglings? They are growing too much!”

Besthren laughed vigorously. “They are just from good family lines, just like us. Father wishes to see you when you have time. He says he has news for the both of us, but he said that he was expecting you to show up any day and wanted to wait for your coming before speaking to me.”

That was one of the main reasons he had come home. But first there was something that he had to do. “Later. I will visit father later, first I need to ask, is Kylal and Futar here?” This would not be pleasant, but it was something that he felt that he must do. No matter the consequences.

Besthren grimaced at him and closed his eyes against the memories that they both shared thanks to the reports he had been sending in ever since they had left. Including the aftermath at the Arien ruins. “They are, but if you are going to do what I think you are, you don’t need to. I delivered the message myself. They do not hold you responsible.”

“Be that as it may,” he closed his own eyes against those memories, “I must still speak with them.”

He walked passed his brother, Curlat falling back to stay with their eldest sibling. As he passed Besthren, his brother reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just remember, not a single one of us could have prevented what happened. We are not Gods, we are not perfect. The only one to blame is that beast who murdered our kin.” With a pat on the shoulder Besthren moved away, silently signaling for Curlat to follow.

He stood there for a few moments, running everything through his head once again. It did not matter what his brother said, if he had been there with Mach, if he had only been quicker, than perhaps he could have prevented it from happening. He may not have been the one to kill Sutert, but he could have been the one to prevent it. Another friend lost because I was not capable enough.

Bracing himself both physically and mentally, he marched up the road to the home of his late friend. Knocking on the wooden door he waited with his heart pounding. A moment passed as he heard Kylal’s voice behind the wooden doorway, opening the door and she greeted him warmly despite his betrayal. He entered their home as she insisted and stood waiting while she went to retrieve her husband, Futar, from somewhere in the back of their house. His stomach riled on itself, twisting into knots and making him wish he were anywhere else but here. But this was something that he had to do. What little honor he had left, demanded that he face them.

“Bastra, I didn’t expect to see you so soon!” Futar exclaimed as he entered through the back room, Kylal right behind him. Sutert had been small for a Gargoyle, but that was because of his lineage. Anyone who knew his parents would see why he was smaller than the others. Both Kylal and Futar were at least a head shorter than any other Gargoyle. And though their mass as a whole was less, they were no less capable of fighting or defending than any other warrior or scout. “I thought you would still be worlds away. Unless of course, this war is over?” Futar asked, a hopeful hint in his tone.

Bastra glanced down at the floor as he spoke. “Not exactly. We have been preparing for that final day now for weeks. And every day our warriors grow stronger and more confident. But that is not why I am here.” He closed his eyes for a moment, holding back the tears that stung at his eyes. He would not let them fall. Not yet. He was here to ask forgiveness of them, and if need be to accept their judgement and punishment. He would not allow his emotions to interfere with their ruling. He opened his eyes and looked at both of them, each in turn. He was here to accept their judgement, he would not stray from this path “I have come here today to offer myself for judgement, as it once was among our people.”

Both of them looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He took that as his opportunity to continue. “I failed to protect your son, as I swore that would. I broke my promise when he fell to the blade of our enemy. An enemy that I previously had the chance to kill, but my own arrogance and anger allowed him to live. I could have killed him, but instead I wanted him to suffer pain as I had. Had I only ended his life when I had him within my claws, ripped out his throat, or snapped his neck, none of this would be happening. I was too arrogant. Too angry. I was told that vengeance would only bring more pain, but I ignored those words and because of that, there have been deaths that could have been prevented. Had I only done what was needed when I was presented with the chance, your son would be alive. I was not capable enough to protect him, and so I have failed your family. I offer myself for judgement.”

Tears came to both of their eyes as he mentioned Sutert, Kylal sobbed into her hands and turned to Futar. The two held each other for a moment in silence. When it looked as if Kylal was calming down, Bastra fell to his knees, his wings flopped down around him in complete submission. “I have failed you, as I have failed so many others. My inability to protect your son led to his death. I accept responsibility for what happened.” He reached behind him, unlatched his spear and brought it out before him, offering it to them. For a warrior to offer his weapon was a sign of complete submission in the old ways. Although many of the old ways were lost since they had moved here centuries ago, it was a sign that was not lost to the two of them.

“Your report said there was a Pyre,” Kylal said through half sobbing tears, “did the Goddess hear your prayers?”

He continued to hold out his spear as he answered. “If She did not, than She has never heard any of ours, Kylal. No Sending in our time was ever that Powerful. The hearts of our men were united like no other before the tragedy, and after… If She did not hear us that night, than She is deaf or lost.”

“This beast who killed our son, is he dead?” Futar asked, his tone thick with venom, but not toward Bastra.

“Not yet, he is not.” He answered quickly “The man I have followed for months, the man I came with to Selane today, the same one that your son died to protect, he hunts that beast with a passion beyond measure. He will not stop until he has found and destroyed him, even if it means going to the end of the world to do so.”

“Could he do it? Could he kill him?” Kylal asked, the same venomous tone in her voice. He nodded his answer, his eyes still downcast. “If you were given the chance, would you follow that man to help end that beast’s life? Would you fight to protect him so that he could kill the beast who killed our boy?”

Bastra looked up into Kylal’s eyes, those brown eyes flooded tears but there was a fire burning in them with such intensity. An intensity that he knew very well. “I would battle the Nine Hell’s just so King Derune would have the slimmest of chance to destroy that bastard.”

“Then you take your spear,” Futar responded fiercely, “and you protect this man with your life. You defend him with everything you have and you see to it that vengeance for our boy’s death is found.”

“By my honor, by the honor of our kin, I vow that I will do everything in my power to end that beast’s life.” He said as he twirled the spear around, the tip pointed toward his heart while the length of it was out toward the two. “I vow by pain of death to my soul, I will protect Mach Derune until his blade or another vanquishes the evil that has taken our family and friends away.”

Kylal and Futar reached out, gripping the end of the spear handle. This was the moment of truth for an Honor Oath ceremony. He knew that they understood what he was doing, and what he meant with each action he made. If they did not believe him, if for a moment they did not think that he would uphold his vow, they had every right to thrust the spear forward into his heart, ending his life before he could betray them. As if they were truly one person, Kylal and Futar pulled the staff out of his hand, turned it sideways and placed it back where it had been. Acceptance of his pledge to them. He allowed the tears to flow from his eyes, thankful for the chance to prove himself once again. “I will not fail. Rubious will pay.”

Both of them stepped forward as he stood and reached out to him, embracing him as if he were one of their own children. His wings drooped weakly as they both hugged him, their own wings stretching out around him, pulling him in tighter. A more intimate acceptance of his promise. Tears flowed freely from his own eyes, both of grief and of gratitude. Rubious had taken his best friend away from him, and after Dan’s death he had never felt the same. Now, with the parents of another fallen comrade holding him as if he were their own child, he felt some of that pain and weight lift from his shoulders. “You get the murderer who did this and you come back here and tell us how he fell.” Kylal whispered.

The tears burned hotter by what she said. There was meaning behind those words, meanings that were deeper than just what was spoken. “I will do my best, Kylal.” He let go of them and took a step back. With a flourish of his spear he reattached it to his back. “Thank you, both of you.” He walked away, leaving the two alone. His heart felt lighter now than it had in a long time. Even the weight that he had carried after Dan’s death had been eased some after speaking with the two of them.

As he strolled along the path to his father’s home, he could not remember the last time he felt like this. All this time, ever since Dan’s death, he had been consumed with rage and grief. He had failed to protect his closest friend and had allowed him to die right in front of his eyes. That rage had made him act savagely when he had come face to face with Rubious outside of Tuindreg. All he had wanted to do was hurt him, cause him as much pain as possible but not have him die. He wanted the beast to suffer. He had not lied to those two. Had he just ended Rubious’ life that day, all of this would have been avoided. Kehlimph, the towns in Sedan, Kyrie, SnowDrift. All of those lives lost during the skirmishes with Rubious. All of that was his fault.

But he would redeem himself thanks to those two. He had the chance to regain his honor and he would not let them done. He would not hold back any longer. It may be time for his people to stop hiding the fact that there were powerful Mages among their ranks. It may be time for his people to truly begin fighting in this war. Nedmere Derune had asked them to come here to protect something, that something was lost centuries ago. But now, he had his own plans.

He looked around to see how far he had gone and was surprised to see that he was outside of his father’s home. The hard part was over. Now, he needed to apologize to his father for his failure. He braced himself once again and stepped up the wooden steps, pushed the door open and entered. Sitting cross legged and as proud as ever, with a smug look on his face, was his father. The old Gargoyle had been Chief Elder of Madtu for half a century and had no plans of quitting any time soon. “Son, Besthren will be here in a moment. Come and sit while we wait.”

He quickly obeyed and no sooner had he sat down than his brother entered through the front door. With a gesture from their father, the two were sitting and silent. “I understand that you went to see Kylal and Futar.” Their father, Elder Basteiar asked.

He nodded solemnly. “I did.”

“And you did this, why?” For a moment he couldn’t look his father in the eyes.

“I had…” He started to say the first thing that came to his mind, but quickly caught himself. He closed his mind, focused his thoughts and restarted his explanation. “It was something that I felt I had to do, father. Too many times I have been involved with the death of a friend or someone’s loved one. Too many times there had been chances for me to prevent those tragedies from happening, but because of my shortcomings, I failed to protect those that matter most. The people around me, those that have placed their lives in my hands, I failed them. I felt it was only right to offer my spear to them as atonement.”

His father looked at him, the eyes of an old man weary of death glared through those milky brown irises. “You think that offering the Old Ways would have been of any use? Hmm? Child, have you not learned a single thing from your young friend?” His father began smiling slyly as he stared at the confusion on Bastra’s face. “I had thought it would have sunk in by now. But I guess you can’t teach an old scout new tricks.” With a shake of his head and an exasperated flourish of his hands, his father acted as if he were praying to the Gods for guidance. “Boys, what am I going to do with you, beat you with a stick until it sinks in? Hmmm? The Old Ways, are you not fighting to end them? Are your friends not trying to change the way these lands are? Change the laws and the way that people see the world so that their people can live in harmony? HMM? Think boy, the Old Ways need to end. A new era is coming, one way or another. We need to change with it or we will be washed away with the tide. Think boy, think!”

The end of the Old Ways? The coming of a new era? Did his father really mean what he was implying? “Father, do you really mean…”

Basteiar raised a hand and he fell silent. “You have not been the same since the death of your Human friend. My young boy, so full of life and so very happy with the world. You were always so joyful. Even when death came to members of our kin, we could always look to you to ease our own pain by watching the joy that you brought others.” His father sighed heavily. “But ever since that Human’s death, that child became full of rage and purpose of vengeance. We all must grow up, we all must lose part of the child within. But never would I wish it to be lost as it was with you. If there had been any way to ease your suffering, I would have done so. My children, this village is everything to me. I would not know what I would do if a tragedy like Selane’s were to happen here. Which is why we must protect our world with everything we have.” Basteiar glared up at the two of them with a protective fierceness that was surprising.

“Father,” Besthren asked, “Do you mean you want us to take a more active role? Put more of our scouts and warriors to this war? We need what we have here in case there is an attack!”

Their father’s eyes narrowed, staring out beyond them. “I am saying that we must fight for our place in the world, just as the Mages are doing. When our kin came here at the request of a Mage centuries ago, it was to help protect Selane when it was founded. We have forgotten that oath in our time here, we have grown silent in our time. But we will be silent no longer.”

“Father, what exactly have you in mind?” Bastra asked hesitantly.

“Son, when your young friend made allies with Sirunre, the future became clear to me.” Basteiar explained. “I have sent a message home.”

“You what!” Both Bastra and Besthren yelled in unison.

Basteiar smiled warmly at him and his brother. The idea that another group of his kin may be coming to these lands was astounding! It meant things that words could not express. “My sons, as I said, we must take an active role and shape our future. This threat, the threat that your Mage friends are facing. It is our threat as well. We are linked to this world in ways that only the Goddess herself would know. A call to arms was sent to our people, and they answered that call.”

“Is it only a call to arms?” Bastra asked, a part of him praying that it would not be.

Their father smiled warmly at his enthusiasm. “Until this crisis is over, yes. Once this enemy is dealt with, once it is safe for families to make the trip, then others will follow. These lands are going to get a lot smaller as new villages are built.”

He looked over at his brother and he could see the excitement in Besthren’s eyes. More colonies! More of their people! If they survived this war, then they would no longer be the only ones in the Five Empires. The idea of more of his kin here was something that he had always dreamed of.

As he went on to describe his journey to his father in detail, the one thing that kept intruding on his mind was the idea of his people expanding here within the new Empire that was growing. More Gargoyle here! Could it be true! This was truly becoming new beginnings for everyone!