With the Hunter’s Lodge being the only building left relatively untouched by the chaos of the last few weeks, the meeting was held there. The leaders of the prominent factions in the town attended it, gathering in the main room of the lodge around the hunters’ dining table. Jimiza helped set up the area with some cups of water and rum she had on hand. Letti was laid up in bed in the back of the room, too exhausted to attend the meeting.

  Arcos, with Boras, Reeva and Tilda, represented the Guild.

  Torrance represented the Waywards.

  Sitra and Vanto stood for the Mercury Gang.

  And Barnabas, the Belle Dame, and Jimiza spoke for Silverstreak.

  With all the prominent people gathered, Arcos explained his conversation with the enigmatic Francisca. The reactions to the developments in the city were partly floored, partly curious, and partly cautious. The notion that the Bodyhunters were to be arrested and executed on sight and that slavery was to be made illegal was a cause for celebration from the Silverstreak contingent.

  “Serves them bloody right!” Barnabas cheered, guffawing between breaths. “Now they’ll know how it feels to be hunted like animals for a change!”

  “Indeed.” Tilda replied. “But why? It cannot be just for the sake of pleasing the populace and quelling the rebels. There is a power play at work here, a Baron seeks to break down one of their own. It is unheard of.”

  “It would definitely help us in the long run if we kept an eye on the general mood in the city.” Torrance suggested. “The Waywards can get that done. As I imagine, the Mercury Gang would have a hand in this as well.”

  Sitra made a noncommittal shrug as she massaged her splinted leg. “If needs must, Four Claws. We only placed our people in your charge as to cement our business partnership for the foreseeable future. We cannot afford to start any problems in the city with the Barons so close. We have many business ventures still growing from a fledgling state.”

  “That being said,” Vanto added, “we shall relate this news to Victor. He will wish to be fully informed by all of this.”

  “Speaking of which…” Sitra piped up. “What happened back in the city with you lot?” She pointed at Boras, Reeva, and Arcos. “We split up, didn’t see you for a couple of days, and then we see this mad storm in the South. Anything you care to tell me?”

  “We had some problems to handle.” Boras answered. “It’s been resolved.”

  Though clearly dissatisfied with the answer, Sitra rolled her eyes and waved away the question. “Whatever…”

  Reeva coughed. “Hold on though… Sitra, where did you go? We lost you in the fortress and then you came barreling out of the damned window. You could have died! What were you doing?”

  Sitra raised an eyebrow and smiled at Boras. “I had some problems to handle. It’s been resolved.” Vanto coughed down a snort of laughter while Boras and Reeva narrowed their eyes at Sitra, but did not react to her parroting jibe.

  “Moving on.” Tilda said, pushing the conversation ahead. “Are you content being the stewards on the town?” She regarded Barnabas and Jimiza.

  Barnabas grinned through his beard. “I’ve already got some plans for the new and improved tavern in my head, Tildy. Of course, I’m content.”

  “And with the new freedom for hunting,” Jimiza smiled. “Letti and I can finally get our own Hunter’s Guild set up. It’s what Marvis would have wanted. On that note, I appreciate you offering to bring his ashes from your home to us, Miss Foxhunter. Thank you.”

  Tilda bowed her head in respect to Jimiza. “He seemed like a good man; it is the least we can do.”

  Arcos was not listening. His attention was to the window that overlooked the town, and prominently, the Eastern border.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw the Belle Dame looking at him with a little sadness in her once sparkling eyes. Now they were a little less bright. It had been a trying time for her, as much as it had been for them all. Arcos wondered if she would ever heal from the horror she faced.

  He opened his mouth to speak. But she shook her head and gestured with a nod towards the window. “She’s still there… Go to her,” she said softly.

  Arcos nodded with a small smile. He stood up and shifted out from the bench and towards the door. While everyone else was in deep discussion on whether they should first change the name of Silverstreak— which was immediately met with a series of no’s by Barnabas— and other possible developments in other run-down parts of the town, only Tilda noticed him leave.

  Arcos walked down the slope of the mountain and made a conscious decision not to walk through the town to reach the pyre. He had had enough of seeing the distraught faces of the survivors. It was getting too much for him.

  He wanted to leave. He wanted to be away from this place that gave him far too many bad memories.

  But at the same time… he wanted to stay. He wanted to stay because of all the good memories. Most of them were comprised of Nerisity. The one person who understood him innately, especially after what she had done to save him.

  He had felt her. He had felt her soul sail amongst his mind, amongst his memories. She had seen the darkest parts of his soul and the best of them. And she still saved him. Why? It was an obvious guess. Because she was the best of them. She was the kindest person Arcos had the good grace of meeting. And… and Arcos felt like he was in love.

  He never had a relationship before her. So it was a feeling that he was not familiar with. But he felt it deeply. So that was what he was doing now, heading down there and to tell her how he felt. How he could not imagine life without her.

  Circling around the last home, he could see the cherry tree that marked Derrick’s grave. It was in full bloom. Light pink and orange cherry blossoms crowned the tree majestically, whilst allowing a small drizzling shower of petals to lace the ground and the grass like a carpet. In a moment’s realisation, Arcos remembered resting under this tree once with Nerisity, using Courageous as their breathing pillow.

  The sight of the Sarku now sleeping there brought that memory back. Courageous was curled up himself, his four wings folding over like a blanket. His armour still remained on him, as a precaution. Everyone was still untrusting of Francisca, so an armoured Sarku was a good reassurance.

  Passing the tree, Arcos saw the smouldering pile of ashes that was once the pyre. And standing there in silence, hands clasped and head down, was Nerisity. She had washed herself back in the Night Tavern and changed her clothes into a fresh dress with a travelling tunic and coat. She looked better. She looked rested. But her eyes had dark circles and the haunted expression on her face told him she was far from all right.

  She heard his approach. She looked up and a hint of smile faded in and out on her face. She turned her eyes away from him and stared back at the ashes. Arcos stepped up beside her and remained quiet. He then reached out and placed his hand around her and pulled her in for a side-embrace. Nerisity did not resist. She just kept looking at the ashes.

  “The baby was a girl…” she spoke at last.

  Arcos let out a shuddering sigh. “Really?”

  “Yes.” Nerisity wiped her eyes. “Hacker was very good to me. He helped save me after the Belle Dame was forced to…” She couldn’t finish the words.

  She swallowed a sob and allowed a fresh flow of tears to gently drip from her eyes.

  Arcos did not cry, but he bit his lip and he felt his body twist in pain.

  The pair remained in silence for a while. They heard the wind whistling through the air. Birds chirped from the tree nearby. The clouds broke apart, allowing the warm sun to bear down onto them. Nerisity seemed to relish the warmth of the light. She breathed easier. She wiped away the tears with her sleeve.

  “What name did you want to give her?” Arcos asked. He had imagined she would have planned that.

  “Helia.”

  “That’s… a good name. I like it.” He said. He shuffled closer to her and rested his head against hers. But Nerisity gently pulled away from him.

  “Please don’t.” She asked.

  Arcos looked at her with confusion and worry. Nerisity took two steps away from him and hugged herself. Her shoulders shook from a struggle not to sob anymore.

  Arcos stepped around her to stay in her line of sight. “Nerisity…” he uttered.

  She looked up at him.

  Arcos felt his throat dry up. But he spoke out all the same. “I am so sorry. If it weren’t for me… none of this would have happened. None of it…”

  Nerisity shook her head. “But it’s not your fault. I know that.” She stepped towards him and placed her hand on his cheek.

  Arcos was instantly brought back to the first night they met. How she held his face in the same way. He leant into her touch and held her hand there with his own.

  “I forgave you already and many times before…” she continued as a shuddering sob threatened to snap her composure in twain. “I can never hate you… But… what you did, what you did for me… that scared me. You killed so many people… I never saw you like that. I thought you were more merciful… And the fact that you killed so many for me… it isn’t romantic as the stories say. And then… you tried to kill a child. I know it was Alaintiqam. They were using you. I know that, I know it… But it was still you I saw. And then you tried to kill your friends… and me…”

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  Arcos started shaking. Tears began to well up. “But that wasn’t me! I would never do that! I would never! You know me!”

  “Don’t lie…” Nerisity begged him as she pulled her hand from his face. “Down in that part of you… I saw the rage. The desire. A part of you wanted revenge so badly… Alaintiqam only brought it out, they didn’t conjure it. It was in you…… I care for you. Gods, I do. But there’s so much pain in me. What Markus did to me… it’s killed something in me. I feel less. Lesser than… I can’t give you what you want from me… And it breaks my heart that I can’t give you that. I- I don’t know how this can work.”

  Panic surged through Arcos. He lurched forward. She stepped away from him.

  “Nerisity! Please! I don’t need anything from you! Please! Don’t leave me! You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

  He grabbed her wrist.

  Nerisity wrenched it away from his grasp and stepped further away from him, eyes reddened with emotion. He fought his body to stop pursuing her.

  “It’s not just you… It’s me.” She whispered. “It’s all my fault. All of it. If I had fought harder… If I was stronger… then I- I would have… I…”

  Suddenly she exploded, abandoning her composure for raw emotion. “OUR DAUGHTER’S DEAD!” She screamed at him. “DEAD AND GONE BECAUSE WE WERE TOO WEAK!”

  Arcos stood rooted to the spot, stunned into silence by her outburst. Nerisity grabbed her mouth, shocked by the very words she spoke.

  She sobbed into her hands. “There’s a hole in me… I can’t fill it.” She whimpered. “I can’t… I just can’t…”

  “Nerisity… Please…” Arcos dropped to his knees. “I’m begging you… Give me another chance. We can make this work. Please… We can… You said you wouldn’t leave. You can’t… you can’t… I- I love you.”

  Nerisity’s eyes widened at that admission.

  She opened her mouth to say something. But she closed it and then she shook her head. “I can’t do this… I’m not strong enough… I’m sorry…”

  She turned away from Arcos and ran.

  “Nerisity! Come back!” Arcos shouted after her. His voice was coarse. “Nerisity!”

  She ran hard and fast back to the town, her eyes welling up in tears. She held her mouth closed so she wouldn’t scream out.

  She would only do that when she was in her room later that night, howling her pain into her pillow.

  Arcos stayed there, knelt on the warm spring grass. He stared listlessly at the ashes, allowing the fresh tears to flow freely. He felt the grass in his fingers as he traced them through the green blades. He breathed in and out, attempting to hold in his pain.

  He felt movement behind him. Half expecting Nerisity, he turned with some renewed hope. Only to see Tilda standing there, looking down at him.

  “You saw everything then?” He stated as he roughly wiped away the tears.

  Tilda nodded. “It was a painful sight. But sadly, a familiar one… May I join you?”

  Arcos shrugged.

  Tilda approached him and then knelt down beside him, facing the ashes.

  “Barnabas, Jimiza and the Belle Dame are to be inaugurated as the first Silverstreak Council.” She informed him. “They shall be drafting laws in the next week before the official declaration comes through from the Oligarchy.”

  “That’s good…” Arcos plucked a blade of grass and rubbed it between his fingers.

  “That has little to do with us, of course. So we are preparing to leave today. Torrance and his Waywards are also preparing to depart for the city, now that he has a lot of recruiting to do. Vanto and Sitra have already left with their crew.”

  “Uh huh…”

  Tilda glanced at him. “Arcos…?”

  “You were right.” Arcos said half-heartedly, his eyes glazed over. “All of it. You were right. About me and Nerisity. Us interfering with the world… It wasn’t going to work out… As usual, right?” He made a brave joking smile that faltered very swiftly.

  Tilda sighed. She rubbed her bandaged hands and ran her fingers along the torn parts of her clothes.

  “I wish I was not. This life… It’s a path that few people can stomach and push along. Even fewer who can actually live through it to its end. It is a pain to say this, but it is the truth; Nerisity is no different. She is only another girl whom you will encounter, care for and protect… until you cannot or she does not wish you to.”

  “She’s special to me.”

  “I am sure of that… As I am sure you are special to her. But such is life… we grow and sometimes to do so we must grow apart.” She noted the cherry tree. “A tree is strong when it stands alone.”

  Arcos rubbed his fingers over his right wrist, over the bandaged stump that ached. “This is all I got to show for it. All that bravado, fighting, killing… some fucking revenge that was…”

  He looked towards the cherry tree and Derrick’s grave. Petals covered the grassy grave like a blanket. Derrick would have liked that image, if he hadn’t been dead.

  Arcos gritted his teeth. “I just… I wish things were better. I wish we were here when it all went wrong. If we were here, Derrick wouldn’t have died. Nerisity would have been safe…”

  “And you would have indulged in Alaintiqam’s thirst for vengeance with even more viciousness.” Tilda replied. “Would have, could have, should have… It is pointless to think about the what-ifs. What you must focus on is the now.”

  Tilda stood up and offered her hand to him. Arcos glanced at the hand for a moment, and then finally took it with his left. As he stood, Tilda remarked internally how Arcos had grown. He was nearly her height now. Battered, bruised and cut to practically ribbons from the horrors of last night, he still stood tall enough to show his new iron-forged strength.

  Tilda smiled at him, then placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “You are better off forging your own path without the need to protect all who ask for it. It was her choice to follow a path of her own choosing without you. And you must do the same. If either of you changed your path based upon the other’s decision, that will not lead to a happy life. Succeed or fail, at least it will be by your decision and no one else’s.”

  “Is that the reason why you let us go in the first place? You could have pursued us, stopped us…”

  “Maybe… Maybe a small part of me realised that you were old enough to follow your own journeys. And you bested me in combat. Assisted by Alaintiqam’s power or not, you won. I had lost the right to lecture you.”

  Arcos shuffled in his place and then smiled back at her. “I’m not going anywhere now. I want to come back. I will accept any penance or punishment required. I want to learn from you again. I want to belong to somewhere I can call home.” He bowed his head to Tilda. “I’m sorry.”

  Tilda sighed and patted his shoulder to raise him back up. She looked into his eyes, once again reading his expression to gauge the emotions he dwelled upon. And when she could see that there was no true turmoil of anger within - unlike the first time she saw that in him over a year ago - she nodded to him with deep respect.

  “You have grown up in such a short time… You seem wiser now… That makes me very proud. I am proud to call you my student.”

  Arcos grinned and used his sleeve to wipe away the growing moisture in his eyes. “Thanks.” He then started to grab at Eadala’s scabbard to unhook it from his belt. “Uh, this should be yours. Sorry I held onto it for so long. It just felt nice to have it.”

  Tilda shook her head and pushed his hand away from the sword’s hilt. “Then keep it.”

  “What?”

  “Arcos. You have displayed great courage and skill wielding that sword. It suits you far better than I ever could. You seem to have unlocked a latent power that very few have done in history. You belong together. And let us not ignore your surname. It seems fitting to have such a weapon. Who am I to stand in the way of such a serendipitous title?”

  “But what about you? What are you going to use?”

  Tilda waved her hand in dismissal. “I will find another weapon in due time. Eadala deserves a worthy owner. You are that owner. You are worthy.”

  Arcos's smile fades a little and Tilda could see the sadness grow in those strange eyes. “What is it?”

  “I don’t feel worthy.” He said. “When we got everyone out… we were free. We were good. I wish I had the fucking sense to just leave with you. Instead… I had to get my bloodlust. My stupid, pointless, little revenge… I fucked it all up. She will never forgive me, she will never trust me… not after she saw me do what I did.”

  Tilda placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him away from the ashes. The pair began to slowly walk towards the mountains.

  She shook her head. “No. I believe you are wrong. She will learn to trust again. She will learn to forgive and be the same girl again… Just give her time… Truly, it is a pain that stings deep and remains in your heart for years…” She paused. Then she ended it with, “I speak from experience.”

  Arcos stepped back, eyes widening. “What? Wait, what? You… lost a child?”

  Tilda blinked slowly as he looked at Arcos with her violet eyes that misted over with emotion held in check by years of discipline. “And it was as painful as you can imagine it is for her. And yet, here I stand and so shall she.”

  Arcos found himself speechless. He had not known much from his tutor’s life. She kept that part of herself exceptionally private. But from what he knew already… he was able to guess.

  Torrance. Torrance was the father… Tilda’s miscarriage led to them breaking apart… That was the big secret between them. Hells… he wished he didn’t know that. Hells, did Torrance know?

  “I’m so sorry…” he finally said.

  Tilda smiled sadly, feeling a familiar pain grip her throat. “It’s quite all right. It was a long time ago. But the point I am making is that life will continue with or without you. So the time will come for you to pick yourself up and move on. And that time is now.”

  Arcos paused in his steps. He glanced towards the town. He could see people moving around, busy with the day’s tumultuous events. He wished he could see her red hair, or just a fraction of it… But no. He could not.

  Tilda stopped with him and waited patiently.

  “You think I’ll see her again?” He asked.

  She crossed her arms and looked up at the sky. “My answer? I think not. Your answer. Hopefully. Honest answer? I do not know… Why operate in possibles and maybes? You must stay in the consistencies you know to be true.”

  Arcos snorted. “Nothing in my life has been consistent, Tilda.”

  Tilda laughed. It was a warm chuckle. “Are you sure?”

  Arcos frowned and turned to ask her what she meant by that, until he saw who she was looking at.

  Far in the distance, waiting upon the slope of the foot of the mountain, was an armoured Sarku, a black Tashiishan stallion, and a group of black-clothed travellers.

  And amongst those travellers, he could see them. Boras and Reeva waving at them and approaching them with enthusiastic strides.

  “So what about them?” Tilda asked him with an expecting smile. “Are they not consistent?”

  Arcos stood there, rooted to the spot and silent.

  “They stood by you.” Tilda continued. “No matter what. They saved you when others would have left you for dead… There is something different between the three of you. I see it, as much as Ashmak, Torrance, and the Elders. To ignore something like that, when it is so blatantly clear on your paths, is the height of foolery. They love you, Arcos. I hope you know this.”

  She looked at him and paused. Arcos was crying again. But not from pain, rage, or grief. It was a face filled with such joy that it spilled from his monochromatic eyes in thin rivulets of emotion. He shuddered a breath and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

  Then he lunged to the side and hugged Tilda tightly.

  Tilda, arms locked to her sides, was surprised to say the least. But she did not resist. She allowed him to hold her.

  “I love you.” He uttered. “I love you all so much…”

  “We love you too, Arcos.” She said.

  He released her and sniffed sharply to fight back the tears and the snot. “Sorry.”

  “It’s quite alright.” Tilda stepped forward and gave a gentle wave towards the approaching pair. She looked back to Arcos. “So. Are you ready to come home?”

  Home… Yes, she was correct. Home.

  He smiled. “Yeah. I think I am.”

  Arcos followed after Tilda until he walked in tandem with her. There he stayed by her side. She did not quicken her pace nor slow it. She noted his presence and nodded with silent approval.

  The pair continued walking towards their friends, their Guild— their home— as equals for the first time.