Epilogue: Ten Generations

The moment the ceiling collapsed atop him, Avii was falling. Through darkness. An inky black abyss. A realm with neither up nor down, simply the plummet. And as the wind whipped his hair while he tumbled end over end through the nothing, a sound met his ears.

All he could hear was laughter. The twisted cackles of the witch as she delighted in his misery. His torment. His anguish. And with every passing second that he fell, her joyous laughter swelled. It grew so deafeningly loud that he reached for his ears. But he had no hands. No arms. No head. Avii no longer had a body. He was nothing but essence. Soul and soul alone.

Then from the darkness came the voices. They were distant. Filled with sorrow. Crying as they mourned. He could hear another barking an order. Commanding invisible legions to act. Swords clashed against shields and shouts of victory rang out. And then, after it all, silence.

Darkness and silence. Both an eternity and an instant at the same time passed before Avii. Until he approached a light. It was distant. Small, but nonetheless present. And as he approached, a voice graced his mind.

“We still have much to do, Kaal’eesh.” The witch hissed as the light grew closer. “So, so much to do.”

Suddenly he could feel the gravity taking him. It drew him down towards the light. He was falling. The glow approached rapidly until suddenly it consumed him.

—ooo—

Opening his eyes to the dim room that he found himself in, Avii sat up with a start. He grabbed at his racing heart. Held at the muscle that struggled to free itself from his chest as his body trembled at the dream. No—the memory. Everything he could remember felt so real yet foreign. He could remember the darkness and the laughter. But more than that, he saw his final moments clearly. Recalled the journey and the years of torture. Gods and Devils. Men and monsters. It was so real, but also like a dream.

With a shift from the bed he rested, Avii tumbled to the ground. He had been sleeping in a hammock. One of many that filled the space. The world around him was no longer red-stained stone or eternal darkness, but wood. It was damp and smelled of salt. And as he lay against the wooden floor, looking down at his hands, he realized that something was different. That his hands were smaller and lacked the years of torture. Lacked a lifetime of forced labour and agony. Lacked true struggle.

“Avindail!” A voice called out from beyond the door. “Come on yuh’ bum, we’re about to make port! Yuh’ don’t want to miss this!”

The door flung open, revealing a boy no older than sixteen with a head of moppy brown hair and freckles that speckled his cheeks. His clothes were well worn but nowhere near as weathered or tattered as Avii was used to. Attached to the ruby sash that hung across his hip was a scabbard that hid away a short sword.

“Oi, Avindail, yuh’ alright?” The boy asked as he looked down at Avii, confusion taking hold of his expression. “Yuh’ look like yuh’ve seen a ghost, mate.”

“I-I—” Avii began, but stopped, grabbing at his throat.

His voice was not his own. It was not the sound of a man in his fifties nor was it the timbre of one who had screamed his vocal cords raw for decades.

“W-where am I?” Avii asked, looking up at the boy before him. “What’s happening?”

“Yuh’ ‘it your head or somethin’ when yuh’ spilled from your cot? Come on already! We’re pullin’ into port now!”

Avii watched as the boy stepped closer, reaching for his youthful hands and tugging at them. The figure across from him was strong for his age, his muscles obviously hidden by the tunic he wore. But by the way Avii felt as he stood, he could tell that he was by no means weak either. The muscles of his body were as full as his stomach, and any pain he once had was now gone.

Allowing the boy to lead him, they exited the quiet room together into the crowded space beyond. Dozens of figures moved about, preparing boxes and barrels. They worked in unison, freeing cargo from the nets that they had been bound by and stowing away the ropes. And as Avii passed by, he eyed them all closely. He noticed that not a single one appeared underfed. In fact, aside from skin that looked weathered by the sun and elements, they all appeared healthy. Healthy and happy.

“Come ooon!” The boy again groaned from ahead of Avii. “Are yuh’ expecting me to pull yuh’ the whole way? ‘urry up!”

“I-I’m comin’.” Avii finally replied as he began to follow the boy at a faster pace.

Clearing the length of what Avii had begun to realize was a ship, the two charged up the stairs. He followed the boy up two decks before reaching something he had never expected to see. Something from his past that he had forgotten. Holding up a hand before his eyes, Avii shielded his gaze from the bright sunlight that bathed the top deck of the vessel they sailed on.

“Ah, bright.” He remarked, squinting as he tried to peer through the glare. “What—”

“Tha’s what yuh’ get for spending most of the trip in the hol’. Now come on!”

Avii let the boy continue to guide him as they rushed ahead. He listened as sailors cried out to each other, shouting terms that Avii could only begin to understand. By the time they had crossed the length of the ship, arriving at the forecastle, his vision had finally returned to him. Returned with just enough time to see the port in its entirety.

Through watery eyes, he took in the city before them. It was grand in scale beyond what Avii had ever seen. At the front, there were hundreds of houses and shops that stretched the length of the shore. They hugged the docks that moored dozens of galleons with flags from nations that Avii had never seen.

Following the rows of buildings inland, a wall of beige stone emerged high above the surrounding city. Avii marvelled at the structure, itself armed with ballista and trebuchets meant to protect the world beyond. A world that he could only imagine as bustling with life based solely on the trails of smoke that came from within. Smoke that looked controlled and not a result of war or wildfire.

And then, farther back still, there stood a castle. Its walls towered over the rest, with massive banners fixed atop turrets that scraped the sky. He eyed the cobalt blue and gleaming gold of the fabric as it billowed in the coastal wind. It stood proudly. Undamaged. An image of sovereignty.

“There she is,” The boy beside him remarked with a pleased sigh. “Uth’ranta, the city of prosperity. The vanguard of the free world.”

“The what?” Avii asked, gawking at the landscape ahead of him before shifting his head up.

There was one thing more impressive than the buildings that stood undamaged before him. More amazing than the volume of people that filled the approaching docks. For Avii had seen people. He had seen buildings. But what he had not seen in more years than he could remember was the sky. A sky that was clear and blue. That went on forever without a cloud to disrupt it. And the feeling of the sun, round and warm, as it bathed his skin. So, with a delighted sigh, Avii enjoyed the feeling that washed over him. The comfort and security of a world not choked by smoke or ash.

“Uth’ranta?” The boy beside him remarked, turning to face Avii before gently knocking at his head. “Come now, Avindail, ‘ow bad did yuh’ knock your ‘ead?”

“I’m fine, I just—why are we here?”

“It’s our port of call before we trek on foot. Or did you also forget we’re on our pilgrimage to the homeland? To ancient Maldain?”

Avii’s heart skipped a beat as the words rang in his ears. As they triggered a nausea that pushed him to lean over the edge of the ship to hurl. But before he could, he caught sight of something else. Something reflecting in the water beneath him. His image.

Though distorted, Avii could see a boy looking back his way. One of white hair and ruby red irises. But as familiar as the features appeared, the boy who looked back at him was not Avii. He was not the same man he had been before he awoke. Not the man who died in that cavern.

“Hey, come on,” The boy beside him replied, giving Avii’s shoulder a nudge. “Stop playing around. Let’s ‘elp the deckhands out. Faster we get to shore, the faster we can get some food other than the damn gruel they’ve been feeding us.”

“Yeah, I-I’ll be right there,” Avii remarked, waving the boy away. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

With a pat of his back, the boy separated himself from Avii, leaving him alone with his thoughts. And as he rested there, looking overboard at his distorted reflection, trying to remember what had happened and how he had gotten there, he wondered if it had all been a dream. If the world he had lived through, the life he had experienced, had been nothing more than a traumatic nightmare. That was, until a chill raced through his body and he felt the cool sensation of a presence in the back of his mind.

“No,” The voice of the witch whispered to him. “You very much lived that life. And it is now behind you.”

“But how?” He muttered. “How was I there? And now here?”

“Simple, child. I took your soul the moment your body died and kept it safe. Kept it stored away for a rainy day when Gods and Devils returned to mettle.”

“Who am I?”

“You are Avii, of course. Avii Kaal’eesh. But the body you are in once belonged to Avindail Kaal’eesh, a relative of yours. Ten generations separated from your precious daughter. For you have been asleep for some three hundred years.”

Avii again felt nauseated at the thoughts that filled his mind. The thoughts of how much time had passed. How he had died and then been given another life. A life that had not been his to take.

“But my soul. Our deal. You were to torture me…”

“Why would I torture a Maldainian?” She laughed. “After all, of those that remain, yours are the only ones who matter. The only ones who don’t deserve suffering. But you’re right, we did have a deal, and your soul does remain in my care. As such, going forward, you will do as I say. And I say to follow this boy you journey with, for he will lead you to very interesting places. And you will bring me much entertainment.”

And with that, the cool sensation that had washed over Avii’s body vanished, and he was once again free of the witch’s hold. With a gasp, he grabbed at the railing and vomited overside. He had lived a life of torment. Of torture. Yet the idea of being given a second chance tore away at him in ways a knife never could.

His mind shifted to the thoughts of Kani. Of Jeanine. How he had just found them, only to lose them again. How the child his soul now possessed descended from his own blood. And as he wrestled with these thoughts and the feelings they evoked, he watched as the ship came to dock. Watched as they moored the vessel and began to unload.

After gathering the few things he travelled with, Avii followed his companion down the gangplank. As he did, he listened to the gulls that soared overhead. Their echoing cries announced his arrival to the new land. And as Avii finally stepped onto solid ground, his boots clacking on cobbled streets, a strange sensation washed over him. A calming feeling. As though the City of Uth’ranta welcomed him home. As though his return allowed the world to breathe a sigh of relief in the form of a breeze that tussled his hair. That, even though he had never travelled its streets or even experienced this age, he was welcomed by it. As though his return had been foretold.

Following his companion without question, Avii travelled along the busy streets, listening to the chatter of locals as they sold wares and lured in hungry sailors. He kept close as they approached the outer walls of the city-proper, where the boy flashed something to the soldier standing guard. With a glance to Avii, he followed suit, unsure exactly what the purpose of the pendant on his belt was or why it gave them access to the city without a need to wait in the growing queue.

As they passed through the gates, Avii marvelled at the city that expanded beyond them. He stared in awe at the bustling streets that made the docks appear calm. Frozen, overwhelmed by the crowd, Avii’s friend had to pull him along. He dragged him towards the city centre, where he explained they had been instructed to grab their first meal. But as they neared it, Avii slowed to a stop.

They had entered an open courtyard at the heart of the city. A grand piazza with a bronze statue at its center. Around the space, hundreds gathered, enjoying treats as they rested on benches beneath colourful tarps or at the edge of the fountain that surrounded the monument. But Avii was not interested in the people. Nor did he care about the food that his friend seemed interested in acquiring.

What caught his attention were the figures that stood proudly before him. A dwarf, an elf, and a human man. A pair of human women. And then, at the front, an orc adorned with a crown that held high the hand of a man in a suit of armour. A man who stood taller than the rest, even though emblazoned on his chest was a single, damning word: MULE.

“Oh right,” His friend spoke, pulling Avii closer to the statue. “The monument to the Hero Avii! He’s your ancestor, right? That’s so awesome. I’ve heard the tales…everyone has.”

“I—” Avii whispered, shock taking hold of him as his eyes began to water.

Wiping away the tears, he approached the placard at the front of the statues. There was not one, but many. Written in bold and in several languages, large enough for all to read, there were words that stung at Avii’s heart. Words that would make everything he fought for worth it.

This statue was commissioned by King Ostave to commemorate the Estarian souls who gave their lives to protect this world from annihilation: Lieutenant Marx, Serjeant Ragart, Caster Aindes, Priestess Vivat, Longbowman Pilla. But there was one soul who stood above the rest. A man whose name would not appear on any record. He was the sole reason that the mission succeeded. That Estaria and Kovika would one day find peace. Though he would never ask of it, his name deserved to be inscribed for all to see. For he stood above Kings and Gods. For he gave his life to protect us all so that we could one day have a world to inherit. May his name always be remembered. And may his legacy be eternal.

Avii – The Hero of Maldain. A Free Man.