Chapter 39: The Cemetery Gates

  “Seven bells, and all is well!” A guard cried as they passed him by under a veil.

  This was the routine. When they were in the city, they moved through it like ghosts. People were no longer challenges or really even threats, just obstacles to be avoided.

  It granted her distance, but she liked the distance. The distance felt safe; it played to her instincts to stay out of sight, to be ever watchful but never seen.

  But she had been seen, and recognized, honored, right along with Tobias.

  She could move under the veil all she wanted, but, in a way, the world of Calaria seemed to shine a spotlight right through.

  Riley could outwit the eyes of a passerby, but it seemed they couldn’t hide from destiny.

  “You’re being awfully quiet, but your thoughts aren’t,” Tobias’ words drifted through her mind, prompting her to look up towards him.

  She could feel the weight, like an ever-present stone on his chest. Distantly, there were feelings of panic barely kept at bay.

  “Pot, meet kettle,” she replied, letting her words drift back over their shared connection.

  “A lot of things are becoming real for me, including how much I don’t understand,” Tobias mused.

  “That meeting was a lot. I knew Sabine had dirt on half the kingdom, but that was like reality TV on turbo meth. Everyone is sleeping with someone they shouldn’t, has killed someone they shouldn’t, or is selling something they shouldn’t,” Riley boggled.

  “It’s leverage that we might need. Secrets buy loyalty surer than coin,” Tobias recited.

  “That is a very Calarian thing to say,” Riley grumped.

  “What is it that people say in your world? When in Rome?” Tobias countered with a mad grin.

  Up ahead, a group of servants were decorating with some kind of evergreen branches full of bright green berries Riley had never seen before. All were wearing the copper torcs of the Ashenvale’s underclass.

  Two were stringing a banner that read “A very merry Geohol!”

  “That’s not fair,” she complained, ignoring the oncoming holiday.

  “None of it is. That’s something that I’m just now realizing,” Tobias replied.

  “Gee, just now?”

  This time, it was Tobias who shot her a sour look before turning towards the Cathedral.

  “No, smart ass, I’ve always known the world isn’t fair. I’m starting to understand that it’s never going to be fair and that waiting for it is just... well... stupid. It’s never going to get any simpler. It’s never going to smooth out. The struggle is the way of things,” Tobias explained.

  “Ok, but we’re together, right? That’s something,” Riley didn’t know what else to say.

  “We're never going to have those quiet days in the woods, and we’re never going to fit in anywhere. That ship has well and truly sailed. A nice quiet life was always going to be a pipe dream since my trial,” he said.

  There was an anger behind his words that she could feel.

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  “Like you said the other day. We’re on our own, but we aren’t alone. There’s your parents, Cid, Justinian, Sabine...” Riley began, working down the list.

  “And that’s a good thing, but we’re the only ones walking this path, Riley. All we truly have is each other, like you said,” Tobias came to a stop in front of the Cathedral gates.

  More servants lined the streets, stringing banners and sweeping up debris. Some were posting posters on the walls.

  One caught Riley’s eye; it read, “Hail the Chosen of Galdor!”

  And there was a moving image of them, like an animated GIF on paper.

  “That's from the King’s funeral. You’re still in your black cloak,” Riley pointed.

  “Illusion magic and a specially tuned bit of Memoricite Crystal; that’s how they do it,” Tobias explained, his words growing distant as he slipped through the gates.

  “What you’re saying is, our lives are never going to be normal or probably easy,” Riley continued.

  “Huh?” Tobias looked at her, lost in his own thoughts.

  “What you were saying just a moment ago about life being unfair,” Riley prompted.

  “Exactly, you know I always wanted to be an alchemist, but I was raised to know that you don’t get to pick your path, but this is...” Tobias stopped as the words caught even within his own mind.

  “You're scared,” Riley finished the thought as they turned down a familiar path, moving around the Cathedral.

  “Yes...” Tobias said the words like they were living blasphemy; his breath caught as his throat tightened.

  “I'm sorry,” Riley replied.

  She felt him reach out in confusion as his eyes went wide, “This is not your fault.”

  “Darius bought me for a silver, and that was the start of all of this for you,” Riley countered.

  “And you were worth it and more. Riley, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but I don’t know how to be the savior of the kingdom, and I’m terrified I’m going to fail,” Tobias sighed as they began passing row after row of headstones before stopping at a particular one.

  Tobias set his hand upon the stone, “Hello, Granda.”

  He bowed his head as grief ripped through him like a gale.

  Riley pressed up close to his legs, “I don’t know how to be the savior of the kingdom either.”

  She chewed on the sentence as her own grief welled within her chest.

  Those first few weeks in Calaria had been a whirlwind, but she had found a new family and a strange kind of hope that still bloomed, even now.

  And then suddenly, they were one less.

  Tobias only nodded as tears fell, “You gave everything, Granda, but what if I can’t live up to it?”

  “We don’t have to live up to it,” Riley stammered as Tobias looked at her confused.

  “What?” Tobias could feel her half-formed idea, which felt like light waiting to break over the horizon.

  “Darius believed in you, not in a title or an ideal. I don’t think the answer is in trying to be heroes; I think it’s about being ourselves. We give it our best shot,” Riley replied, her words growing stronger as her thinking solidified.

  “And what if it’s not enough?” Tobias countered, his breath catching once again.

  “You cannot fight the weavers and win. What I remember of my own death was…” Riley paused, reaching for the ephemeral memories.

  “I made a choice to go back and face something I had no hope of beating. I didn’t know it at the time; I just knew the right thing was to run towards it, not away from it. That’s a choice I already know how to make, and you do too. We faced the same odds against Chadrick,” Riley explained.

  “Choice amid a greater destiny...” The words dropped audibly from Tobias like a whispered prayer.

  “We know who we are, and we live that. That’s what Utred and Mavora did, and that’s what I did in my old life, too,” Riley continued.

  Tobias knelt down and pulled Riley close to his chest, then removed his obsidian torc before removing hers.

  “Why'd you do that?” She wondered.

  He carefully set them on either corner of Darius’ tombstone before calling their grey crystal torcs to his hand, kneeling and setting hers around her neck before putting his own on.

  Looking into her eyes, he set his hand behind her head, “It’s time we both stop waiting to be told what our lives are going to be. I’ve spent my life playing by their rules, going along to get along, quietly accepting my station, and I still ended up an exile. Well, so be it.”

  Tobias stood, as Riley felt it, like a rocky promontory standing amidst a clearing storm; a new determination was rising in him, a conviction she had never sensed before.

  “I’m with you. What’s next, then? What’s the first step?” Riley asked.

  “It’s time we go to work. Come on, Riley.” Taking one last look at the tombstone, Tobias bowed his head in reverence before turning and heading toward the gates.