Authors: Colleen Montague
The Council in distant Elenan sent notice through the entire region: no one was to retaliate on any condition; they refused to believe that anyone would even dare to come against them, even back then. Worse, they declared the villagers’ stories as false, followed by a decree that anyone telling such “lies” would be committing treason
and sent to possible execution. Despite all warnings entha and others refused to follow the Council’s directions—they knew what was really happening, that it was something that couldn’t be ignored. Unlike the Councilmen, they had seen the horrors firsthand.
But entha knew something everyone else didn’t—even young
Hiran had no idea: the true driving force for the Brac was their chief deity: Bralon, the Flame of Death. It was not a case of extreme religious belief, but the actual involvement of a higher power. Entha had sensed His presence, heard His voice echoing out from the shrine Nishtan had set up in his palace. Those were enough to fill her with fear unlike anything she had felt before.
Entha spent her spare time brushing up on her combat skills, taking some time to teach what she could to her son. It was only a matter of time before this place fell
like all the others.
Hiran
had just turned eleven when the city was finally attacked and fell. The Brac army, along with their new Brilken allies, stormed through the streets, burning everything as they went. Most of the people managed to escape the carnage, fleeing along secret routes to a place of safety some thirty miles away. Entha had told Hiran to run, that they would find each other later, but the Deathmaster himself had come and cut the woman down without a thought. Young Hiran witnessed it all, and with his mother’s death seared into his mind he fled.
He wandered aimlessly, his mind unable to let go of the loss of his mother, letting his feet decide where to go for him. He never saw any of the people he passed, never noticed the trees whose low branches scratched at his arms, and never saw the rocks that rose into the sky high above him. He never acknowledged that he had wandered all the way to Elenia’s mountain until he stumbled onto a small spring where a young girl was washing her feet.
Mai had not been much different back then, her hair dark blue with a few streaks of red; she had only just started learning how to use her talents. She took one look at him and immediately brought him to a small cottage on the outskirts of the city. A middle-aged woman lived there on her own, and when she saw the boy covered in dirt and who knew what else she agreed without hesitation to take him in. She had a child once, but lost her when she was still quite young. She did everything in her power to raise Hiran as one of her own, and it did make him a little happy.
But the boy could not forget any of what he had been through. This woman could stand in for his mother, but not enough to replace her. He yearned for that brief period of peace that had been stolen from him.
This new near-peace was short-lived for him anyway. He was still adjusting to this new life when word started to spread of his presence. Shortly afterwards strange things started happening: people around him would sometimes vanish without a trace by the end of one day; a mysterious illness swept through the city, lingering for a month and taking the lives of thirty people, some of them children; an entire city block was consumed by flames, stopping just within sight of Hiran’s house. Most people saw it as just an odd coincidence, and were content to leave it at that. Others thought it was the wrath of the Great One in response to what was going on in the world around them; they pitied Hiran and showed him as much kindness as they could, refusing to blame him for anything.
The Council had been anything but sympathetic towards him. In their eyes the strange happenings were more than coincidence, that he was directly responsible for all of their troubles
; it all started right after his arrival. Somehow they seemed to have an idea about his parentage, and he was soon targeted—they called him demon, a bringer of chaos, not a child. They demanded that the people take action against such evil. If he was ever in the city the Guardsmen would seek him out, showing him the affection of their fists in the middle of the street while everyone else stood aside; they could only watch, fearing any consequences of openly trying to help him. They did their best to make it up to him at night, when there were fewer of the Guard to see them, checking to see if he was still all right and trying to cheer him up. But no matter how much they tried the abuse only got worse, and his mood grew ever darker.
The old woman caring for him could not bear to see him hurting like this. Unable to take any more of it she abruptly decided they were going to live elsewhere, loading him into a wagon with all their belongings and heading out to stay with a friend who lived close
r to the woods—Ren’s estate. Hiran would now be away from the physical violence, but the Council threats still managed to find him.
Mai and other Nymphs started to visit him regularly, partly to comfort him
as others had done and partly out of fascination. Around this time his magical talents were starting to emerge, though they were not much—incredible strength, an ability to look into the minds of others, and some healing. But while he took their advice and worked to build his natural gifts, it did not make him feel any better; the timing of this could not have been any worse. If the Council were to learn of this new development, he was surely doomed.
So at fifteen years old, he took matters into his own hands.
He was a burden to all of them—his new family, the few friends he had gained, even those who hated him. He was the reason their lives were starting to crumble. It grew to the point that he started believing the lies the Council told of him. Perhaps if he were to disappear from their world, everyone would be better off and their lives would return to normal. It still hurt him to leave. He could not help but glance back once more over his shoulder as he walked away.
His life was in ruins. It had been destroyed the moment he was born.
He roamed through empty country for two years. He felt the brutality of the elements as they beat down on him constantly. He did not care anymore—he just wanted everything to be over.
Until he saw her.
The girl had been unlike anyone or anything he had ever met before—she was the kind of girl Hiran could only dream of meeting. She had a strange charm that pulled in everyone—almost everyone, anyway—including him, with little to no resistance. On his very first day in the area he found himself watching her, and one day turned into many. He sensed something about her, some power that lay dormant. So he chose to stay and watch over her.
He had hoped he would not have to get involved in any major event in her life.
Hiran
sat back and watched Calla’s face as his story sank in for her. There, it was out now: his entire dark past, from his origins to the present. If she chose to continue standing by him he would be surprised. She looked up at him, reaching one slender hand through the bars to stroke his cheek. She didn’t hate him, he could see it in her eyes. But what did she feel, really feel? He hoped her answer wouldn’t be just to make him happy.
“It is your decision Ca
lla,” he said, “whether to forgive me or not.”
XXVIII
Calla
Calla just shook her head in disbelief, not at Hiran’s story but the fact that he had kept it hidden for so long. She leaned over to rest her forehead on the cold metal separating them. That was a lot for her to take in; perhaps that was partly why he kept his past to himself.
But that she wouldn’t understand if he told her…?
He’d had a rough life growing up, she could understand that now. In some ways he was more afraid of facing those memories again than he was of sharing his story with her; it was something that kept haunting him. Keeping to the shadows of society—to the shadows in general—was his only defense, the only way he could try to deal it.
“It is your decision whether to forgive me or not,” he had said. Forgive him? Forgive him for what? For being so ashamed about something he had no control over? There was nothing to forgive there—he needed reassurance more than forgiveness for that.
She would never have met him if he had passed through Kida instead of staying in the area. That he had chosen to watch out for her—it was almost touching; lately she thought someone might be watching over her, her own guardian angel keeping her safe, maybe—now she knew someone had been there.
“
Hiran, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked.
“If I had,” he replied, “what do you think would have happened?”
“Something other than this! We could’ve found another way to get past the stupid Council that didn’t lead to your landing in here. Hell, we could have even gone all the way to the far side of the mountain if we had to! Anything!”
“You do not know what would have happened,”
Hiran said sadly. “Neither of us know. There is no point debating it now—all of this has passed, and nothing can be done to change it. I thought it was for the best that I kept my secrets to myself. And I was afraid, afraid that if I were to share the dark truth about myself to the one person whose trust I had earned, that trust would be shattered irreparably.” He let his eyes drop. “I did not want to do anything that could jeopardize the friendship I have built with you in these recent weeks.”
Ca
lla cupped her hand under his chin, lifting his head so that he was looking at her again. “You could have told me,” she said. “That’s what I’m here for—what any real friend is there for.” She shook her head. “Whatever your lineage, it doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is what
you
choose to do—that is truly what makes someone who they are.”
He blinked. “Do you forgive me, Ca
lla?”
“What is there for me to forgive? Your only fault is your difficulty in letting go of
the past; you’re perfect otherwise.”
“Please?”
Calla sighed. “If it will make you happier…then yes, I forgive you.”
Hiran
seemed to cheer up at this, and tried to hug her again through the bars. His fingers got caught in her hair, perhaps deliberately from how he promptly started playing with it again. “It does make me feel better,” he said, “now, at the end.”
For a moment Cal
la’s heart seemed to stop.
The end…?
“Do not fear for me, Ca
lla—it is far too late for any of that now. My fate is sealed.”
“What are you—
”
“We have been watched—a guard has been standing around the corner listening to us for some time now. I have only just sensed his presence. I am afraid time has run out.”
“No, I can’t accept that!”
“It is too late Cal
la.”
“
Like hell it is! You can’t just give up like this!”
“I no longer have any say over what is to happen in my life—they took that right away from me. The Council literally wants my head, and while your intentions were pure they have used you to get it.” He finally took his hand away from her face. “This is the end
for me.”
“No. There has to be a way—s”
“I have already tried, my dear; that is why they reinforced my prison. There is no chance for me now. You are the one that must get out of here.”
“I won’t leave you!”
“You must! Calla…” He held her head with one hand. “If they find you here they will make you face some horrible punishment of your own, perhaps even torture. I could not bear the thought of the Council doing anything like that to you in any life.”
Some strange noise started echoing down through the door behind them from the hall. Both of them stopped to listen as it grew louder and louder—some kind of mob was heading in their direction, and they were getting closer.
“Get out of here Calla,” Hiran commanded, not unkindly.
Ca
lla latched her hands onto the bars. “I’m not leaving you.”
“It is not worth arguing over. You must go.”
“But—”
“Please Ca
lla.” He touched the tip of one finger to his lips and then touched it to hers. “For my sake go, so that my end can have some peace instead of overwhelming turmoil.”
Ca
lla glanced at the stone arch leading to the next corridor. A faint red glow was spreading across the far wall, the voices of the group even louder now. Time was up.
“Go,”
Hiran pleaded.
Ca
lla had no choice—she didn’t want to, but she had to leave him.