The boy swallowed and nodded. Having lived his entire life in Underworld City (he was the son of a servant), he knew very well what angry sorcerers and witches were capable of.
Hadjar was placed on the stretcher, near a merrily crackling fire. It reminded him of the evenings when the three of them — him, Nero, and Sera— had roasted meat on a fire, away from the main military camp. Nehen had never joined them. Hadjar should’ve understood then that the two of them had no future...
“What happened to him?” Karissa’s worried voice was muffled, as if she were speaking through a veil.
Hadjar didn’t see what was happening around him, just the blurry orange flame nearby.
“He’s an idiot, that’s what happened!” Ramukhan growled out. “We had to use our best concealment amulets, and now he’s exposed us-”
“They have about six hundred strong practitioners,” Hadjar muttered, interrupting him. “Sankesh’s daughter is very hard to read... she could be a Soldier or a Knight... Sankesh’s personal guards. Nine, no… eight people, now. Seven of them... are Heaven Soldiers. One... is a Knight. They’re very strong…”
“What about little Serra?” Einen asked.
Tilis, upon hearing the familiar name, flinched like she’d been whipped, but said nothing.
“She is... not with them,” Hadjar croaked. “She’s somewhere nearby... I don’t know... where. They are hiding her... She... can... probably… sense the entrance. The key... Compass ...”
“That explains how Sankesh knows where to go,” the islander nodded. “Now sleep, my friend. Leave the rest to us. Regain your strength and power. Let the Great Turtle cover you with its shell.”
Einen put his hand on Hadjar’s forehead, and he was carried off, far away. For a moment, it really felt like the shell of a huge turtle had fallen on him. As big as a whole mountain range, it sheltered him from all his troubles and worries. Just like his mother had, long ago...
Hadjar opened his eyes.
A bonfire was crackling nearby. Dry pine and aspen logs, folded into the shape of a pyramid, sparked slightly from time to time. The sparks stung him pleasantly and weren’t painful. There was a thick predawn fog lingering over the low grass. The sedge rustled. The full moon shone. It illuminated the wide lake and its banks, which Hadjar was sitting on. He watched a little fir tree swinging in the wind. Hadjar liked fir trees. They reminded him of his old dream world, where they would be decorated for a holiday with a funny name. New Year. He’d always liked that holiday.
“She’ll soon be here,” came from nearby.
Another man was sitting at the fire. He filled his pipe and offered a bag of tobacco to Hadjar. He nodded gratefully, accepted it, and filled his own pipe. It was the tobacco that little Eina from the brothel ‘Innocent Meadow’ had given him. It was amazing... Once, she’d been older than him, but now she would forever be younger...
“I like it here.” Nero took a drag and then let out a line of little smoke rings into the sky. He’d always done that better than Hadjar. “It’s so peaceful. Sometimes, I even want to stay here.”
“Well, then stay,” Hadjar answered, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself.
Nero turned to him and smiled. That kind of smile usually meant trouble.
“You know that I can’t do that, brother,” Nero answered... Or Eren did... “I... We... We have to move on.”
Hadjar nodded.
Tonight was the night when Nero’s and Serra’s souls had to leave the home of their ancestors and move on to their rebirth. Their next lives would depend on how their forefathers had met them and their judgment.
“Am I dreaming?” Hadjar asked. “Or am I really... really…” the words were difficult to say, “…talking to you?”
Nero smiled again and exhaled some more smoke rings.
“I don’t know, brother, I don’t know. Does it really matter?”
Hadjar took a long drag from his pipe. The potent, fragrant smoke entered his lungs, causing him to cough. It was quite powerful.
Nero laughed and nudged Hadjar with his shoulder. It was such a familiar gesture, one that Hadjar missed so much that he involuntarily touched the sleeve of his caftan.
“I never said goodbye to you,” Hadjar sighed. “I didn’t take you... on your last journey, didn’t bring your body to the fire and honor it. I didn’t… save you, brother.”
The smile disappeared from Nero’s face. Putting his pipe aside, he peered into the flickering flames.
“But you kept your promise, Hadjar. You took us with you on your journey.”
In Hadjar’s hands, the leather wallet with the two wedding bracelets appeared. “But we should have-”
A warm, calloused palm rested on his shoulder.
“Stop it, brother,” Nero shook his head. “It was my choice to make. I don’t regret it for a second. By the gods, I don’t regret that I joined the army and became your friend. I don’t regret that the gods rewarded me with such an amazing brother. I don’t regret that I found my death close to you, side by side, as it had always been. So do me a favor and stop thinking of yourself as the center of the world. People die every day, regardless of your desires. Live, brother, and give all those who are in your way fucking hell. Don’t forget that we were going to find out if this world is truly boundless. Therefore, a very long journey still awaits you.”
Nero got up, brushed off his pants, and went over to the lake.
“I’ll watch over you.” He stopped. It looked like he wanted to turn around. But he didn’t. He quickly brushed something off his face. Probably an annoying insect. “If I see you moping around, I’ll send you a terrible nightmare. I have to go now.”
“We have to go,” another voice corrected him.
Serra came out of the mist. She was as beautiful as ever.
“Take care of my sister, Hadjar. She is stubborn... By the Evening Stars, how stubborn she is! But her heart is kind. Please save her, my friend.”
Nero and Serra hugged and went toward the lake.
Hadjar wanted to go after them, but his legs wouldn’t obey him. He wanted to scream, but he didn’t have the strength to open his lips. He could only sit and watch his most beloved people disappear beneath the light of this damned moon, vanishing into the fog...
“N...” Hadjar’s lips trembled. “N... N...”
His hands shook, reaching for his sword lying nearby. Suddenly, his blue eyes flashed so fiercely that, for a moment, they overshadowed the moonlight.
“No!” Hadjar roared.
He jumped to his feet, grabbed his sword, and rushed toward the lake. The fog creeping underfoot came to life and formed a wall. Hadjar punched it and was sent flying a good ten feet back. This didn’t stop him at all. Drawing his blade, he rained down his most powerful attacks on the wall. A black, torn cloak lay across his shoulders, wisps of darkness oozed out of Mountain Wind, but none of it was able to break through the fog wall.
Many hours, days, or even years passed as this meaningless battle raged on. The two figures had disappeared long ago. The ruthless moon was still shining. Hadjar, blinded by fury, continued to fight against the impregnable wall.
“Do you want me to bring them back?” Someone behind him asked.