Raea laid on a grassy hill, staring up at the night sky. For some reason she couldn’t quite recall how she got there, or why she was there. But that didn’t matter, because the sky looked beautiful that night, with pretty stars sparkling in the distance.
It occurred to her that Cian wasn’t with her, though she hadn’t pulled her gaze from the stars to check. She didn’t have to, she already knew, even before she realized it. Besides, she was feeling more connected to the stars than anything in that moment.
They were so pretty, so far away, so inconsequential to the happenings of the world on which she laid. A thousand tragedies could scar the face of this earth, and the stars would never know. At the same time, one of those stars could blink out of existence, and the world would never pause to check.
There was something beautiful in that, a thought that made Raea feel connected to something bigger than herself, something that existed long before she was born and would exist long after her death. There was a serene beauty to it, yet at the same time Raea found it excruciatingly haunting.
Why would she want the universe to pass her by, unnoticed? She would rather be hated than disappear. Even if it meant becoming a monster, she wanted to be acknowledged more than she wanted to be loved. So she scowled at the stars above her, spiting them for thinking that she would disappear into the black and blue fabric of the night sky like them.
As her thoughts turned in that spiteful direction, the stars responded, moving closer together, combining to form larger points of light on the night sky. In contrast to the insignificant and numerous stars that had floated above her not a moment ago, Raea was now looking at a handful of lights that could not be ignored.
They continued to grow in size while decreasing in number, soon becoming like a single sun, though the sky around it remained as if it were night. Even as all the remaining stars disappeared, this sun grew in size, consuming everything around it.
Raea squinted as the sun approached, burning her skin, her clothes, the ground beneath her. It was blazing a path through everything to reach her soul itself, sliding into her flesh, transforming it into light. Something deep within her told her to not be afraid, and Raea wasn’t. Instead, she was horrified. She screamed at the encroaching sun, demanding that it leave her be.
It was at that moment that Raea opened her eyes, her calm, steady breathing belying the nerves she felt in her chest and the cold sweat that clung to the leather of her new armor. She held her head in her hands, trying to understand the images in her head before the dream disappeared altogether.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cian laying down next to what remained of the fire he had built when they made camp just before dusk. She asked herself what he would do in this situation. Did Varathians even have dreams?
Regardless of what the answer to that particular question was though, she could already hear his response to the first query in her head. If it isn’t something she could deal with now, push through and find something else to do.
So that was what she did. Flexing her hands, she scowled at the feeling of sweat stuck between the leather armor and her skin. She stood and walked over to the stream that Cian had made their camp next to. It was glacier fed, flowing from the range of snowy mountains to their east that were barely visible in the dark of night. Apparently the stream continued to the west before merging with other waterways to form a great river that would eventually flow into a large lake that itself was the start of a large river flowing south. Together these marked the northern and western borders of the Empire of Olica. According to Cian, anyway.
At the moment, Raea didn’t care about where this stream fit into the larger picture, only what it could do for her in that moment. She began peeling off her armor, sweat sticking to the leather, until she was standing on the banks of the stream in her small clothes.
Wading into the shallows until she was up to her hips in water, she began splashing it over her shoulders, washing the sweat from her skin. Raea looked up at the stars, the real stars this time, as she did this. They really were far away, pretty but insignificant, she thought to herself.
The moon, on the other hand, loomed large in the sky. Even as a waxing crescent, with only a fraction of the presence of the full moon, it dominated the sky, seeming like a king among paupers. Raea couldn’t tell how, but she could feel that it was having a real effect upon the world that the stars lacked entirely. But like how she didn’t care how the stream fit into a larger system of rivers, she found herself uninterested in the grand mechanisms of the cosmos.
So, disregarding her own place in the universe, she turned her attention back to herself. More specifically, she focused on her body as she watched the moonlight reflecting off her wet skin. She hadn’t noticed it during the several weeks since she began traveling with Cian, but she had changed.
Her body had grown, and not just in the ways that girls often do as they develop into young women. Where once her skin had been stretched thin over rib and hip bones, it now left only a slight impression of her skeleton beneath a healthier layer of fat and muscle. Before she had never thought much of the way her stomach would curve inward under her ribcage, it had been something that just was. But she had eaten better and more regularly since she had begun traveling with Cian, and now it was no longer concave but flat. Her legs too had changed, the many miles that she had walked developing lean muscle that no longer felt sore after a long day of travel. She looked not thin and scrawny but lean and athletic.
Perhaps more important was the development of her mind. She was calmer, less prone to outbursts of anger, and more willing to observe before acting. Or least she felt like it. Maybe that was just wishful thinking and she was still the same little girl from Carsani. She turned her gaze back up to the starry sky above. Perhaps introspection was as haphazard as contemplation of the universe.
Taking her wet fingers and running them through her hair, Raea turned and waded out of the water. She shook her arms and legs, shedding droplets of water. She leaned down to pick her armor off the ground, but then decided against it. Instead, she laid down on the grass and stared at the sky once more.
Maybe she wanted to find herself amongst the stars, or maybe she was just bored waiting for sunrise. Either way, she laid there as the stars and moon faded from the sky and the warm rays of sunlight began licking at the right side of her body.
“Having fun?” Cian asked, entering Raea’s vision and standing over the girl.
“Not really,” she replied.
“Hmph,” Cian snorted. “Well, I suggest you get yourself dressed. You should look at least somewhat presentable when we cross the border into Damar.”
“Well we wouldn’t want that,” Raea replied in a sarcastic tone as she pulled herself up into a sitting position.
“Say, when’s your birthday?” Cian asked while Raea was putting her armor back on.
“Don’t know,” she answered as pulled the trousers up her legs.
“Then how do you know that you’re 14?” Cian asked.
Raea paused to pull the leather shirt over her head before answering. “Father Paul always refused to tell me, I think something happened that he didn’t like to think about,” she explained. “I always just counted from the first day of each year. Why do you ask?”
“Ah, I was just thinking about how much you’ve grown since I met you on that tiny island,” Cian replied.
“You really think I’ve grown?” Raea asked, pausing midway through tightening a strap on one of her gloves. She stared at the Varathian with anticipation, wondering if he would confirm all of the thoughts she’d been having about her own maturation.
Cian leaned back, staying silent for a moment. A wry smile appeared on his face before he said, “yeah, I think you’re maybe half an inch taller. Don’t worry, it’s barely noticeable.”
“Shut up, old man,” Raea said, picking a stone off the bank and flinging it at Cian’s face. The Varathian snatched it out of the air and chucked it into the water as Raea finished donning her armor.
“I think you’ve had long enough,” Cian said. “Come on, let’s get going,” he ordered, turning away and walking towards the nearby road.
“Hey, wait up!” Raea yelled, jumping along on one foot as she put on her last boot. She had to sprint back to the campfire to grab her sword before rushing after the Varathian.
“So can you tell me about where we’re heading next?” she asked once she caught up.
“We’ll be crossing the border into the Kingdom of Damar, realm of King Marcus the Great,” Cian answered.
“Are the nobles in Damar as annoying as the ones in Olica?” Raea pressed.
“Ha, that’s funny,” Cian chuckled. “But to answer your question, I would say no. The Empire’s been around for a long time, and the nobles there are used to being pampered and bowed to. The Kingdom was a minor territory until about 15 years ago, when King Marcus began conquering Damar’s neighbors. He holds a lot of the power and the nobles are either afraid to cross him or simply grateful to have been given new positions in conquered lands.”
Raea processed this information, nodding her head as she put it all together. “Sounds like I’ll like Damar more,” she finally said.
“We’ll see,” Cian responded as the pair continued on their way.
***
Raea sniffed at the air. It had been half a day’s worth of walking since she and Cian had crossed a bridge over the river that marked the border between Olica and Damar. Now she was picking up some dark, heavy, metallic scent.
“What is that?” Raea asked.
“Finally catching it?” Cian replied.
“Yeah,” Raea confirmed. “Smells like…smoke and…metal. A smithy? But I don’t see a forge anywhere.”
“Good, that’s it, almost exactly,” Cian congratulated her. “But smithy is too small of a word for it.”
Raea glanced up at Cian before turning her sight to the road ahead. Out in the distance, just coming in from over the horizon, she saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky. The pair continued walking, and as they got closer the single plume was revealed to be in fact to be several columns of dark smoke twisting together before disappearing into the sky.
As they continued their approach the next thing to trip Raea’s senses was sound. A din of hammers hitting steel, of hot metal sizzling before hissing as it was dipped into water or oil, and of people talking and yelling as they went about their business.
Then finally it was sight, as Raea started making out not a single smithy but dozens of them, along with everything else that went into the metal forging process. Large piles of raw ore sat under covered canopies before being shoveled into forges. Within those fiery hot furnaces the iron was being purged of impurities, and then it would be used to make steel.
“What is this place?” Raea asked.
“I don’t think this particular spot really has a name,” Cian answered. “But this whole southernmost region of Damar is called Zehlika, and until somewhat recently it was a part of the Empire of Olica.”
“Really? How did that change?” Raea questioned.
“Well, I’m sure you heard about the succession crisis at the start of Marie’s reign,” Cian explained. “While she was busy fighting the rebels down south, King Marcus invaded Zehlika, conquering it in short order while the royal army was occupied elsewhere. By the time I killed Aldric at the Battle of the Whisperwater, King Marcus’ forces had established firm control over this area and dug themselves in, so it would have been too costly to try and reconquer it.”
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“Hm,” Raea voiced, coming to grips with this information. “I remember the Empress asking you to deliver a message to King Marcus. Was it about Zehlika?”
Cian nodded. “Yeah, it’s one of few big losses that Marie’s suffered during her reign, I assume that it gets under her skin. Still, I doubt that she’ll march an army up here or anything, Damar has grown so much that it’s started to rival Olica itself. Not to mention that the locals are much happier under King Marcus’ rule than they were under Imperial control.”
“Why is that?” Raea asked.
“Take a look,” Cian said as a means of answering.
Having walked closer still to the collection of smithies as they talked, Raea could now see that the facility was doing more than purifying ore and making steel. Once that process was complete the molten metal was being poured into metal containers with large handles. Two musclebound men would take one of these containers and run them to another set of buildings. There the steel was poured into molds for various arms and armor.
Swords, shields, pikes, helms, greaves, anything and everything that one could want for outfitting an army was being produced in large numbers. The process was overseen by what must have been at least a dozen blacksmiths, who ensured the quality of each product was sufficient before adding the finishing touches on them and passing them on to other workers who piled the arms onto wagons.
“That’s a lot of weapons,” Raea commented.
“It is,” Cian agreed. “You see, Marcus took the opportunity to conquer Zehlika not just because the Empire was in a tight spot, but also because of the many valuable iron mines here. For the last decade he has been using that iron to forge steel for his ever growing army. In return, gold flows from his royal coffers to the people here. So they’re happy to remain subjects of Damar.”
“OK, but aren’t they getting rich by killing people?” Raea asked.
Cian’s lips twisted in thought as he came up with a response. “I suppose so. But you’ve killed for money before, and you’ve told me time after time that you’ll kill again. If anything, they aren’t killing anybody directly, just giving other people the means to do so.”
“Yeah, good point,” Raea admitted. “It’s just…I want to kill specific people for specific reasons. These weapons are going out to kill a lot of people for reasons I don’t know.”
“Hm, alright, that’s an interesting view,” Cian responded, hand raised to his chin in a thoughtful manner. “Why don’t you ask one of them when we get there?” He gestured ahead of them to the forges and smithies.
“I think I will,” Raea replied.
The pair continued to walk, moving along until they were stopped. An armored soldier stepped out from the side of the road.
“Halt,” the guard ordered, holding up his hand to reinforce his verbal command.
Cian came to a stop, Raea doing the same. “Greetings,” the former said. “It seems that you’re quite busy here. Has the King started a new campaign?”
“He has,” the soldier confirmed. “The invasion of our eastern neighbors, the Commonwealth, began last month, and the arms made here are being sent to the front as soon as they are ready. So, you’ll understand if we are wary of travelers coming too close to such an important facility.”
Cian nodded to show his understanding before continuing. “You are right to do so. However, I have a…friend in the King’s entourage. If shipments from here are going to the front, mind if we tag along?”
The soldier paused, his eyes studying Cian in detail. “I take it from your physique and your coloration that you are a Varathian. Am I correct?”
“You are,” Cian confirmed.
“So then Sir Hermann was who you were referring to?” the soldier questioned.
“Indeed he was,” Cian answered.
“A friend of Sir Hermann is no enemy of Damar,” the soldier commented. “Speak to the captain when you arrive at the depot, he can arrange passage with one of our shipments.”
“Thank you,” Cian said, nodding to the soldier before walking past, Raea following suit.
The girl looked back over her shoulder, watching as the guard walked back to the side of the road, joining a few of his fellows. “Is Hermann a Varathian?” she asked.
“He is,” Cian answered.
“Is he really your friend?” Raea followed up.
“There aren’t many Varathian out there, even if we don’t like each other, we go through enough of the same things that we learn not to hate each other,” Cian replied. “I can’t say that I’ve ever disliked Hermann, and I don’t mind seeing him, but it was more important for the guard to understand what I am.”
“What do you mean?” Raea asked. “I thought Varathians weren’t really thought that well of.”
“That is true,” Cian responded. “But Damar is a bit of an unusual case, since Hermann is here.”
“He was able to make people change their mind about monsters?” Raea asked.
“Hmph,” Cian snorted before letting out a few chuckles. “No, nothing like that,” Cian continued. “But because of him, that soldier knew that I would never do anything untoward in a facility important to the Kingdom of Damar.”
Raea paused, trying to understand what Cian was getting at. She shook her head, unable to find the connection. “But Hermann isn’t even here. What does he have to do with anything?”
“Hermann has been employed by King Marcus ever since he inherited the throne,” Cian said. “Do you know why?”
“Because Varathians are badasses,” Raea answered with confidence.
“Ha,” Cian chuckled. “Maybe, but we’re also expensive. Even Empress Marie, with all the wealth of the Olican Empire behind her, has never been interested in hiring me long term.”
“OK,” Raea commented, nodding as understanding came to her. “But why does King Marcus do that with Hermann?”
“Well, you see, it is a tradition among us Varathians that we do not take jobs that might cause us to fight one another.” Cian began. “So long as Hermann remains under the employ of the King of Damar, no other Varathian would do anything that might go against the Kingdom’s interests.”
“Because the King might send Hermann to deal with any problem that crops up,” Raea interjected. “Smart of him,” she commented.
Cian applauded her with a single clap. “Very good, you’re starting to catch on quicker.”
“I would hope so,” Raea replied.
The pair continued onward, making the rest of the walk to the weapon producing facility in silence. As they neared it another soldier became visible, standing tall amidst the hissing, the banging, the movement to and fro of workers. His armor was fancier than the guard that they had run into on the road, so Raea assumed that he was the captain in charge of the garrison.
“Greetings, good sir,” Cian called out as they got closer.
The soldier turned to look at the new arrivals, his mustache twisting as he regarded them. “You must be a Varathian,” the man commented. “I see no other reason for my men to allow you your freedom at this point.”
“That is correct,” Cian said. “Are you the captain?”
The soldier nodded. “I am.”
“Good,” Cian commented. “In that case, I was wondering if it might be possible for me and my companion to tag along with a shipment heading for the King’s Camp. I wish to meet up with my colleague Hermann.”
The captain turned before signaling to a nearby worker who was walking about with a scroll of parchment in his hands, inspecting the finished products. “Hey, boy!” the soldier called out.
“Yes!” the young worker replied, running over to join the group. “Can I help you, sir?”
“When’s the next shipment to the front?” the captain asked.
““We’ve got a small caravan about to head out now,” the worker answered. “5 wagons.”
“You can join up with them then,” the captain said to Cian, gesturing to the depot where the finished arms were being prepared for shipment.
“Wait, sir!” the worker exclaimed as soon as he heard this.
“What?” the captain asked, clearly annoyed.
“One of those wagons is carrying, you know,” the worker said before leaning in and whispering something to the captain.
“Oh, yes, it is that shipment, isn’t it,” the soldier commented with a frown. He regarded Cian for a moment before venturing to ask a question. “If I tell you two not to look at the contents of the third wagon in the train, can I trust you two to honor that?”
“I don’t want any trouble with the King, so I would,” Cian answered. “And I’d make sure that she does the same.”
The captain nodded. “Good enough for me,” he said. “Get going, you two.”
Cian started walking towards the depot. “Come on, girl,” he said, gesturing to Raea.
“But I wanted to ask the workers some questions,” she complained.
“Sorry, but I think we should be on the road sooner rather than later,” Cian replied.
Raea’s shoulders slumped and her lips curled into a pout as she started to sulk, but she followed Cian regardless.
***
Raea walked alongside the small caravan of horse-drawn wagons, moving northeast towards the front, where King Marcus of Damar and his Varathian retainer Hermann were waging war against the nation known as the Commonwealth.
The five covered wagons in the convoy were flanked by multiple squads of horse mounted soldiers, whose unfaltering discipline and quality equipment caught Raea’s attention as they traveled under their watchful eyes. She was so caught up in observing the escort that for the first day she didn’t really take notice of the rolling hills they were passing through nor the civilians that were also part of the caravan.
It was only on the second day of the trip that Raea finally thought to ask Cian something that had been in the back of her mind.
“You think there’s anybody here who’s from Zehlika?” she asked the Varathian as they sat in the back of the second wagon of the caravan.
“Still have that question about getting rich off war on your mind?” Cian responded.
“Yeah,” Raea confirmed.
“Hm,” Cian intoned as he scanned the caravan. “Looks like the drivers are civilians. They might be from the Zehlika area.”
Raea nodded in response before getting up and climbing in between the stacks of armor to get to the front of the wagon.
“Hey,” she called to the driver.
The man looked over his shoulder at her. He was middle aged, with a worn face and somewhat portly body.
“What ya want, girlie?” he asked.
“Are you from Zehlika?” Raea asked.
The driver nodded in response. “That’s right.”
“Then can I ask you some questions?” Raea pressed.
“I guess I can answer. At the very least it will pass the time,” the driver said.
“OK then,” Raea began. “Can I ask if you are alright with getting rich off war?”
The driver seemed confused by the question, thinking on it for a few minutes before countering with one of his own. “Is this about the weapons we make for the Royal Army?”
“Yes,” Raea confirmed.
“Climb up here and sit next to me,” the driver said.
Raea’s eyes narrowed with annoyance at the command, but she acquiesced and pulled herself into the seat next to the man.
“Do ya know anything about those mountains?” he asked, pointing at the range of peaks to the southeast. It was the same one that Raea had seen before she crossed the border into the Kingdom of Damar.
“No,” Raea answered.
“They’re called the Sundial Peaks,” the driver explained. “Apparently the ancients could track the passing of the seasons by watching the shadows cast by the tallest mountains in the range. I don’t know how they did it, and I’m not sure that anybody alive does.”
“Alright, but what does that have to do with my question?” Raea asked.
“I was getting to that,” the man replied. “Because, ya see, there is another legend about those mountains. To hear my old nan tell it, the story goes back to before the founding of the Empire of Vera, let alone its spread across the continent.”
Staring up at those distant peaks, Raea recalled her time in the dungeons of Vera, marveling at how the great pillars of stone had weathered the ages. The great and ancient empire of Vera had risen, spread, and fallen, leaving behind a grand and decaying city far to the south, while the Sundials never changed throughout the thousands of years. “Go on,” she insisted to the driver once her moment of contemplation passed.
“According to the legend, there’s a gateway or something like that hidden in the mountains. If you pass through it, you’ll meet God.”
“Which god?” Raea asked.
“What do ya mean ‘which god,’ girl?!” the driver exclaimed. “There’s no god but God!”
“Right, right, sorry,” Raea said quickly, looking to avoid any further issues.
“Anyway,” the man returned to his tale. “Supposedly if one passes through this gate and meets God, He’ll judge them right then and there. If He deems them worthy, they can go on through to Heaven without having to die.”
“But what does that have to do with making weapons for the Royal Army?” Raea pressed.
“Sheesh, girl, have some patience, I was getting to it,” the man admonished. “Now where was I? Oh yes. Every so often there’s a group of people who are down on their luck, and I mean way down. They get it into their heads that they can escape their problems by finding the gate and getting into Heaven. So they leave behind everything and go into the Sundial Peaks in search of it. Most are never seen or heard from again.”
“Does that happen often?” Raea asked.
“Not as much as it used to,” the driver answered. “You see, when I was younger, most people here were a lot poorer than they are now. There used to be two or three groups that would go out into the Sundials every year, and that was just from my hometown. In fact, I had an uncle on my mother’s side who went. Never saw him again.”
“But…it stopped happening,” Raea surmised.
“Yep, ever since King Marcus took over,” the driver confirmed. “Ya see, we are getting rich off of making weapons for the army. But let me tell you, when I was a kid there were nights when me and my sisters went to bed hungry. Now that I have kids of my own, nothing makes me happier than knowing that my boys and my little girl have never experienced that.”
“Because of the money that comes in from the army,” Raea concluded.
“And praise be to God and King for that,” the Zehlika man said. “Yeah, I try not to think about the people who might be killed by the weapons I’m moving, but that’s real easy when I think about how happy and well fed my family is, and how so few people in our community are desperate enough that they’d consider chasing a legend.”
Raea leaned back in her seat, thinking over everything the man had told her. “OK. I think I get it now.”
“Did ya get the answer you seek?” the driver asked.
“I’m not sure what I was seeking,” Raea replied. “But thank you.”
Before the driver had a chance to comment, Raea dove back into the wagon to rejoin Cian.
“Interesting conversation,” the Varathian commented as Raea sat down next to him.
“Yeah,” Raea agreed. “I think I’d like to meet this King Marcus.”
“That can be arranged,” Cian replied.
