Chapter 5: Encroaching Darkness

  The crisp autumn air whipped dust across our faces as we made our way through the bazaar’s tight backstreets. My gaze darted cautiously from shadow to shadow, wary of being back in such familiar environs, before settling on my companion. “Aren’t you cold in that?” I asked, gesturing to her skimpy attire.

  “Worried about your big sister?” Leera teased, clutching her bosom dramatically.

  I’d long since grown accustomed to Leera’s playful antics—her stubborn insistence that I was her little sibling and her frequent claims that my ‘ethereal beauty’ necessitated her 'indispensable sisterly wisdom' to fend off my ‘hordes of admirers’ had become a familiar refrain.

  Rolling my eyes, I retorted, “Worried you’ll catch a cold and pass it on, more like. And I thought we’d agreed I was older than you.” With an exasperated sigh, I tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders as I offered my token protest.

  Leera chuckled, playfully ruffling my hair. “Good one, you're getting better.”

  I swatted her hand away. “Leera,” I sighed, “I appreciate you coming along, but you don’t have to do this every time.”

  As usual, she had found a reason to tag along, this time claiming she needed to 'stretch her legs' after being cooped up too long with the baby.

  "And let you hog all the fun? Absolutely not!" She jokingly retorted, her eyes subtly narrowing as we neared a particularly dark alley where some vagrants seemed to be loitering around. The air here reeked of cheap dyes and stale sweat.

  Her usual banter felt forced today, her attempts at playfulness not quite as biting as usual. With every step, the events of our last visit pressed harder on my mind. The news that had been unearthed about my squad from our Phalanx—accusations of desertion, treason, and cowardice, and the complete erasure of our service records and battle achievements—had hit me hard, leaving me reeling. The burden of our alleged actions weighed heavily on my mind. Even now, we remained hunted fugitives, our names and reputations in ruins.

  Treason? Cowardice? It was impossible. I couldn’t have… we couldn’t have.

  And the cherry on top was discovering that no record of anyone named Aniansi Sturma ever having been part of our squad existed—a fact I simply couldn’t reconcile with my own memories, leaving me utterly rattled.

  Ignoring Leera’s subtle hint, I steered the conversation to something she had mentioned briefly in the past. “Why don’t you trust her?”

  Leera snorted, clearly aware of my deflection but playing along. “I wouldn't trust her shadow on a sunny day.”

  Grateful, I decided to continue the paper-thin charade. “Why though? Is she not honourable?”

  “Honourable, maybe. Loyal? Not to us, remember.” Leera’s voice dropped, her demeanour turning serious. “Pro tip, Sol: the most dangerous people you can ever meet are dreamers with a cause.”

  A startlingly sharp observation. For all that she behaved like a tawdry lass sometimes, I often forgot how pointed her insights could be. “How do you even know her?”

  Leera’s expression stiffened a bit. “Past dealings,” she said, without elaborating further. We stopped before a shop with tapestries faded to muted hues of blue and gold hanging in the doorway—a very familiar sight by this point. The faded wooden sign, its painted letters cracked and peeling, read 'Madame Engeli’s Fine Clothing'. We pushed through the heavy fabric and stepped inside, the air thick with the mingled scents of musty cloth, sweet incense, and the faint, lingering aroma of tobacco. The shop was just as I had remembered it, with its neglected merchandise and dusty shelves.

  Behind the counter cluttered with measuring tapes and buttons stood Madame Engeli. Her sharp, grey eyes, lingered on Leera for a moment, a hint of something calculating in them, before she greeted us with a practiced smile.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked nervously, my voice filled with a jittery energy.

  “I’ve followed the lead you had given me about your quarry being from a baron family, boya” she said, her voice sharp and precise. “I’ve checked all the records of the nobility I could get my hands on, as promised. The name you gave me is attached to a death certificate. A very old one.”

  My lips tightened. “How old?” I asked, my voice subdued. This had been the most promising lead I could offer the broker. If even this had turned out to be a dead end, I was at a complete loss for how to proceed.

  “Decades,” Madame Engeli replied, her gaze unwavering. “She is believed to have been martyred during a heroic charge into the enemy's entrenched position during the Hundred Years' War. The fog of war has left the records beyond that… unclear.”

  I felt my stomach drop. Have I been chasing a ghost all this time. But that couldn’t be. I had spoken to her. She had to be real. But the woman I believed to be ‘Aniansi Sturma’ hadn’t been able to recognize me at all, could that be because she hadn’t known me? Could I be hallucinating these memories? No…… no I couldn’t be, my recollection of her was far too vivid. Yet, with every dead end, my certainty eroded.

  I pushed back the rising despair. “This can’t be right,” I said, my voice low and strained, but firm. I met Leera’s gaze, a flicker of fear quickly masked by determination. “We have to find her.”

  Leera stepped closer, her intense gaze searching my face, the flicker of a smile fading into a determined set to her jaw. Turning to the merchant, she said firmly, "Those records can't be trusted. They've been tampered with. We believe Aniansi is now a Knight Commander in the Order."

  She hesitated, shifting her weight uncomfortably. "Listen," she began, taking a deep, steadying breath. "If you pursue this lead, I'll... I'll personally negotiate with Grog's old tribe on your behalf, you have my word."

  I blinked, completely surprised by her offer. This was clearly no light undertaking for her. I had never seen the brash, unflappable Leera look so conflicted before. The fact that she was willing to do this for me touched me deeply. I looked at Madame Engeli, curious to see her response.

  Madame Engeli's expression morphed into one of satisfaction. "Always a pleasure doing business with you, lassie," she tapped a rhythm on the counter with her long, painted nails, her brow furrowed in thought. "This will be a delicate undertaking, but I'll see what I can uncover. Give me two weeks."

  We left the shop, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind us. The bustling noise of the street felt distant, muffled by the weight of my disappointment. My mind raced through a thousand thoughts and possibilities, struggling to explain the revelations I had just been made aware of.

  Leera stayed close, her silence a comforting presence. We navigated the narrow alleyways, the cobblestones slick beneath our feet from the recent drizzle. She placed a hand on my shoulder, her expression steady, a hint of a warm smile playing on her lips. “Sol,” she said, her voice low, “I know this isn’t easy, but we’re far from done yet.”

  A weak smile tugged at my lips, though my eyes remained shadowed. "Thanks, Leera." My throat felt tight. I swallowed, the words I wanted to say caught there. She was willing to go to such lengths for me, despite the potential cost to herself. I knew better than to press her about the offer she'd made to the broker; Leera would never admit to such a display of vulnerability. Beneath her usual bravado, she was more like her mother than she let on.

  She gave my shoulder a firm squeeze, her voice filled with determination. “We’ll find your old friend. We’ll get the answers from her to put all your ghosts of the past to rest. Don’t worry lil sis, you’ve got me watching out for you.”

  I wished I could have even an ounce of the confidence she oozed. The realization that it was over sixteen years further into the future had shaken me to my core. That frazzled feeling had refused to abate even after all these weeks had passed.

  Stolen story; please report.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about my home, back in Fteh. Would anyone even remember me there? Even on the off chance they did, would I be welcome there? I was essentially a wanted outlaw now. I would be hunted to the ends of the earth by the empire if they ever got a whiff of my location.

  I desperately needed Aniansi’s assistance to piece together the fragments of my past. No one else would be able to shed light on my past the way she could. Maybe our other squad mates to some extent, but they hadn’t been as close to me as Aniansi had been. Regardless, the point was moot; I did not know where to find them either way.

  In hindsight, I couldn’t believe how obtuse I had been to miss such obvious signs that I wasn’t where in time I had expected to be. Aniansi joining the knight order and then getting promoted to the rank of knight commander would not have been an overnight occurrence; she must have worked long and hard to receive such an honour.

  Or the fact that a new Emperor sat on the throne because the old emperor had abdicated his throne in favour of his son. But that wasn’t my fault entirely, as that detail had been overlooked by me because of royalty’s insistence on giving the son their father’s name.

  Deep down, a gnawing feeling I dared not voice kept surfacing. Could this all be the handiwork of my divine puppet master—the same puppet master who had remained ominously silent since the parade’s departure.

  Amidst this uncertainty, I fervently prayed that in this vast chasm of lost memories, I had at least honoured my father by going home to scatter his ashes in the river.

  Leera nudged me gently to get me to focus on the present. "There's something more to this search, isn't there? Is it… are you in love with her?"

  “I-I guess,” I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. “I hoped that I’d found closure with Aniansi, that I’d finally confessed my feelings and had the chance to court her.”

  Leera was silent for a moment, her usual chutzpah replaced by quiet understanding. “Whatever answer you get, you’ll still be my cute lil sis.”

  I guess this was her way of saying that she would be there for me no matter what. I felt a surge of gratitude for the chance encounter where I had met her and Grog. I wished I had made a few friends like them back in Fteh.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” I said, chuckling lightly as I gave her a playful nudge. “Lil sis, huh? By the way, what are you guys going to name the little one?”

  As I asked, the memory of that day, the day Grog's son’s tiny hand curled around my finger, washed over me. His firstborn was a literal miracle, perfect in every way despite his mixed heritage. I was glad my fears had been proven unfounded.

  Leera’s face lit up, a genuine smile replacing the earlier concern. “After much debate, we settled on Bjorn, in honour of Grog’s father.” She puffed out her chest slightly, a hint of pride colouring her voice. “A strong name for a strong lad.”

  A faint, slightly exaggerated smile played on my lips as I leaned forward. "Does it feel awkward, though? Being both his older sister and a stepmom?"

  Leera playfully shoved my shoulder, her enthusiasm returning in full force. “Awkward? Please. My first threesome with mum was awkward. This is nothing.”

  I choked as Leera laughed gaily at me. I should have known better than to try and pull one over on her.

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  A couple of hours later, I was standing in front of a gaggle of pre-teens, trying to teach them the basics of wielding a staff. The okuls, run by the faiths, usually contracted out the teaching of basic defence to the younglings to an experienced adventurer. Well, they said that, but what they really meant was the cheapest one they could get away with hiring.

  I didn't blame them though as self-defence was a very small part of an okul’s curriculum. Only those children who were joining the politia or the military were required to take the course, for everyone else it was optional. How little value the okuls of the city held for this course was shown by the fact that they had pooled together to hire a single adventurer to act as instructor for all the okuls in the area. That meant I had nearly sixty kids under my wing in this batch alone.

  I was being unfair, the faiths ran the okuls at considerable expense to themselves. Their stated mission of producing functioning and productive members of society while noble failed to mention their prime objective of spreading their teachings to young and impressionable minds.

  Okuls were the only means by which the children of the impoverished could acquire a well-rounded education to be able to function in society. All the basics were covered like reading, writing, basic language, simple arithmetic, etc. The bare minimum to get by.

  While this model of education did help the lower strata of society, it did nothing to cover the vast gulf between them and the higher rungs. The well off did not rely on okuls. They mostly hired private litterators and started their children off at a much younger age. Later these children would then be sent to the shkolas in the provincial capitals for higher education while most of the children from the okuls would be forced to become apprentices on the count of not being able to afford a shkola’s fees.

  Very lucky few may catch the eye of a wealthy patron and be sponsored to get admitted to a shkola. This favour usually had life altering strings attached. A further infinitesimally small number of talented children with documented ability in mana manipulation were taken out of the course entirely by the imperial mage council to be taken to the capital to be inducted into their order.

  Humanity had drawn the short straw when it came to the mystic arts. Only one in ten humans had the potential to qualify as a mage. This was the lowest among all the intelligent species on the planet. Even prana users were a rarity amongst its numbers. Hence why such individuals were so highly valued.

  As I guided my young students through the staff forms, my gaze kept drifting to a familiar freckled, copper-haired girl struggling to imitate my movements. She was the primary reason I had gone out of my way to secure these duties. Her family was the only link to Aniansi, that I knew of.

  I’d asked Leera to dig into their background for any clues about their connection to Aniansi. The only information she uncovered was that the girl’s mother had been a refugee from Royamue province because of a violent catastrophe known chillingly as ‘The Black Horizon.’ Our phalanx had been deployed in the region sometime before the catastrophe struck. Could Aniansi have met her there? It was the most logical hypothesis I could come up with.

  Reflecting on the catastrophe brought my thoughts back to our squad mates. I hoped they were alive and well. Feeling helpless and in the dark, the desperate thought of trying to penetrate the Mstavoris command structure had flickered through my mind. However, I quickly dismissed that as a phenomenally unwise idea.

  Although I vowed to myself that if I had made no headway by winter’s end, I would have no choice but to risk it. But that would be a desperate last resort only, something to keep in mind for later when all other options had been exhausted.

  I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. I began demonstrating a few thrusts with my staff, my eyes on my pupils as they tried to clumsily imitate me. I felt like sighing as I could see almost all of them were panting hard and had difficulty holding their staffs up. Seeing their struggle, I decided it was time for a break. "Alright, everyone, let's take a short break," I announced with a reassuring smile.

  My class eagerly collapsed on to the ground in relief —all except Ceres, the copper-haired girl, who stood rigid, stubbornly trying to mimic my posture. Eventually, she joined them, settling onto the ground with a controlled grace that was at odds with her peers.

  Once the children had settled, words from another time spilled from my lips. “In battle, it’s not skill, power, or stamina that usually determines victory. It’s something much simpler: a person’s reach is almost always the critical factor,” I lectured, using my staff as a prop. “If you can engage your opponent without giving them the opportunity to retaliate, you have a near insurmountable advantage.”

  I showcased a few complex katas with my staff, spinning and twirling it through the air with precision—moves meant more to dazzle an audience than serve any practical combat purpose. Seeing my charges' rapt attention, I continued, “That’s why staffs, spears, and halberds are such formidable weapons, even in inexperienced hands. I intend to make you all proficient with them.”

  “In our world, reach will almost always determine victory. But don't make the mistake of thinking that a person wielding a weapon with a longer range will always triumph over his opponent.”

  With a jolt, I realized I wasn’t in front of green reserves about to be sent to war, but little children yet to see their teenage years. My lecture ground to a halt. This wasn’t the first time my past and present had blurred and intertwined.

  My gaze swept across my students, noting their glazed-over expressions of disinterest. Ceres was the only one listening with rapt attention. It was almost eerie how much she reminded me of myself when my father had been teaching me.

  Awkwardly clearing my throat, I tried to cover my momentary lapse and glanced at the sundial, which revealed that my time with this batch was nearing its end anyway, so I decided to wrap things up early. “So, if you children don’t have any more questions for me, we will continue this session next time.” Not that I was expecting any but one could hope.

  I waited patiently for a query but was disappointed noticing that most of my class had devolved into chattering groups.

  “Ok children form a column by height. Shortest first and the tallest amongst you last” I ordered my pupils fairly confident they knew their position in the column by now.

  I had an internal chuckle at seeing most of the boys being sequestered in the front of the group. The girls had started to hit their growth spurts, but the boys had yet to hit theirs.

  I made sure to give a few rowdier students the stink eye wordlessly warning them that they would be getting extra laps if they didn't behave themselves. Discipline wasn't in my purview unfortunately.

  I then proceeded to guide the group through the training field which was located at the very edge of the count’s estate.

  The count very ‘generously’ lent out the use of this land to the okuls for the physical training of the younglings. No doubt because it would make scouting for fresh talent easier for him.

  Speaking of the Count reminded me that whatever Aniansi had done after she left her little get together with Ceres and her mother had somehow snowballed into the Count getting censured by his higherups. How that played out remained a mystery to me.

  The grapevine *cough Leera cough* said the Count was also forced to pay restitution and damages to the family. Personally, I didn't enjoy people's misfortune, but this time would be a rare exception. Considering the many stories, always unsubstantiated of course about the Count’s excesses he had had it coming.

  As I was guiding the children to where their litterators were idly gossiping amongst each other in the shade of the old benian trees I decided to walk besides Ceres.

  “Ceres, wasn’t it?” I asked, after getting a hesitant nod from her I continued “I was very impressed by your form and precise movements, have you been trained before?”

  She gave a shy nod before responding “Yes sir. Whenever my aunt visits, she uhh shows me simple exercises and how to properly hold different weapons. My momma insists I do them every day.”

  “Well keep it up little one, your efforts show. Out of curiosity how long have you been doing them?”

  “It's been nearly three summers now” she replied hesitantly, unused to talking with near strangers but making the effort for her instructor all the same.

  I nodded encouragingly at her as I wandered back to the front of the column. That would mean she would have started training at nine summers. That was the age when most noble families would start training their children who would be joining the knight order as squires. So that meant Aniansi was also grooming Ceres to be her squire.

  I guess the why mattered little here, if my dearest friend was juggling multiple complex responsibilities, it would be my pleasure to lighten her load whether she realized it or not. It was the least I could do.

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  I decided to turn in early, even though my schedule was clear tomorrow. I only taught classes two days a week, and Grog and his family had been taking fewer assignments to care for their newborn, leaving me with plenty of free time.

  I needed to catch up on sleep as I had been surviving on less than five hours of it for the last week. My reoccurring nightmares had gotten worse with time. I was unable to recall them now like I could my scrambled memories but whatever they were left me drenched in steaming sweat.

  Even though it was autumn, and it started getting chillier at night I quite liked the cool night breeze as it soothed my body which naturally ran much hotter. I had left the wooden window partially open which also allowed the gentle moonlight to enter and frame my form.

  After tossing and turning for a good while, I managed to find a comfortable pose and start lightly dozing off. If I had kept my eyes open, I would have seen my moon shadow growing to blot out all the light in my little room.

  As the shadow enveloped the room, the temperature steadily climbed, causing the air to visibly distort and ripple like a mirage. The intense heat began to singe my meagre possessions, and a thick, almost choking cloud of ash filled the air. Then, three pinpricks of pulsating light, which could have almost been eyes, opened in the blackness to stare at me balefully. If I had seen those great and terrible eyes staring at me from the void my room had become, I would have fled the city never to return.