Family Reunion II

"There is no passion, but of peace,” a voice called out to me in the darkness. “There is no emotion but serenity. There is no ignorance, only knowledge. There is no harmony but in faith. There is only The Nine, and they make themselves known through these. Speak to your people in this manner."

It was the very first prayer we learned as children, the core of our faith in the gods. I almost felt great shame knowing many still held onto their faith, but I did not. I knew the gods had abandoned us. Did they not? Or were they still holding onto that little spark that told them the gods would return someday?

All magic beckons a cost, hero. The gods will come to collect their payment some day.

Damn you, Hilami. Even as I came close to death, her words mocked me.

Opening my eyes revealed a small cave with a stream running down the corridor. A young man who looked no older than thirty had a fire set up against the cave wall. He tended to it by quietly casting fire magic. And then there was the wiamiu.

“Oh, good! You're awake,” the man whispered. “I was hoping Delilah didn't hurt you too much. She gets a bit testy around intruders.”

I struggled to sit up against the cave wall. “If you mean the giant cat in here, she nearly took my head off,” I told the man.

“No, I don't suppose she's learned to recognize family yet,” the man replied. “That's why I haven't shown Delilah to Mother.”

“Family…? You mean you keep that thing as a pet?”

“Trust me, Father,” the man answered. “She's a real sweetie once you get to know her.”

“Father?” I tried to stand myself up, but the pain dragged me back down.

“You are my father, aren't you?” he asked. He stood up to offer me a hand. “Am I not your son, Rikkos Zikatta?”

I wanted to hug my son, but I kept myself away. Too much shame… I could not recognize my own son, but he sure could recognize me. Well, in my defense, Rikkos was just a boy the last time I saw him. The years had changed him so much. He reminded me a bit of myself when I was his age with his wild golden hair and desire to bond with wild animals. But to bond with a wiamiu? Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it, neither for myself nor for my son. I was proud of him, but ashamed of myself. Certainly, I had abandoned my wife and our son in their time of need.

“Where are the others?” I asked Rikkos.

“Others? Ah, the Lyko and those elves,” he answered. “I sent them back to the village. They told me it was looking pretty bad over there. You took much longer to wake up.”

How long was I out? “Don't you want to help defend your village?” I asked him. “Your mother told me you always wanted to be a soldier.”

“Weapons aren't allowed in the village. Tanzig the Blessed, who founded Kanett, said that weapons of war were sinful. We have a shack away from the village that stores all our hunting weapons.”

Now that I knew was complete nonsense. Not once did anyone tell me that I had to store my sword away in some shack on the outskirts. Or was that supposed to be a rule that only applied to the villagers?

“It's not fair,” he cried. “The day they told me you had died, I swore to all the gods that I would have my revenge against the Demon Lord Ayya. It was my thirteenth birthday. And then Mother had to move us to the one damned place in all the world where we cannot defend ourselves. Now you're alive and demons are attacking our village. Was my oath just a waste of time?”

I took a deep breath, trying to fight against the pain inside. “I may be alive, and I don't know if the gods would answer. But I was always taught that we are to take our oaths seriously. Right now, you are bound by rules that force you to violate an oath you swore before all the gods. I believe that is quite unfair to you.”

Instead of inquiring further, he changed the topic of our discussion. “Where were you all these years, Father?”

I shook my head. “I do not deserve to be called your father,” I told him. “I'm sure they told you the story of how I died.”

“Well yes, but -”

“That day,” I continued, “after I was dropped from atop the city walls, I was carried away by an old witch who took care of me and restored my health. But I decided to hide away and wait for the end to come. I am a coward, and even my attempts to be brave are only bringing suffering to the people I care about.”

We both stood there for a while, each contemplating our next moves. Poor Rikkos, he really was just a little me. He studied my expression just as much as I did his.

“We're alive, aren't we?” he asked. “As long as that remains true, don't we have a chance to change that?”

“We are alive,” I agreed. “But some things don't change so easily. You were without a father for over half your life. I can't just magically fix that.”

“You cannot,” Rikkos agreed. “Magic cannot fill the void of fifteen missing years. But there are bigger things happening here than some petty family drama.”

I smiled. “Your mother taught you well. She always was the one focusing on the big picture in our house.”

He offered a handshake. “So did you. Let's go be heroes. Together.”

I accepted his handshake. Nice and firm, letting the boy know I was in charge. “Let's go save the world.”

•

The battlefield had devolved into a gruesome affair. The demons had come ashore, and any that survived the initial rain of arrows found themselves pushing up against the shield wall. Bodies were stacking themselves on top of bodies like clusters of bees attacking an intruder many times larger than them. Those on the front lines fought desperately to keep the demons away.

Gihri and Giorg had set up a safe house with the reserve forces some distance behind the shield wall. They were the first two Rikkos and I met as we approached the battle. Many of the men shuddered in fear at the sight of my son riding a wiamiu into battle. Others were too busy setting up defenses to notice.

“Get these ropes lashed together!” Gihri shouted. “We need this catapult set up yesterday!”

“Archers! Ready arrows!” Giorg shouted.

“Gihri!” I shouted as I approached his command platform. “Where is Edagri?”

“The King is incapacitated,” Gihri told me. “He's somewhere on the front lines. He fell while trying to rally our forces.” What little torch light we had revealed signs of exhaustion in the elf prince. He sighed, "That drunken fool… I told him that rum would be the end of him.”

“He has been drinking a lot,” I replied. “Do you know why that is?”

“Loose!” Giorg shouted, and dozens of archers rained arrows down upon the battlefield.

“It doesn't matter,” he answered. “Find him and get him to the nearest healer. We can't have him die in some drunken stupor on the battlefield. It would be very... unkingly.”

“Understood,” was my answer. I turned to my son and told him, “Ride into the village. Gather up anyone who can wield a weapon and bring them here. Now.”

He nodded and rode off. I in turn ran towards the front line in search of the Elf King. The shield wall had already started to fail, leaving me very little time to act. Edagri, that drunk elf, had positioned himself on the shield wall with a spear. He tried to jab at any demons that strayed too close to the wall. Having sustained multiple injuries, primarily to his face and upper torso, he barely held himself together just to stay in the fight.

“Your Highness?”

“Zikatta, I sent you off on a mission,” he scolded me. “Your failure shall be noted -”

“Your son sent me to find you,” I told him. “He wants me to get you to a healer now.” The demons continued to push against the wall. Some of them were now jabbing their own spears through any gaps they could find. Mist and blood alike filled the air as the battle raged ever onward.

“I'm still good to fight!” Edagri shouted with utter indignation. “A coward you are to suggest I run from battle!”

I tried every way I could to get him off the ground. Nothing worked. “You fools!” I shouted at anyone who would listen. “Help this man get to a healer! Now!” A trio of humans ran over to us, and together we lifted Edagri off the ground.

“Damn you, Zikatta!” Edagri shouted, the copious amounts of alcohol and the pain from his wounds affecting his judgment. “You cannot do this to me! I am the King! I am the law!”

We made very little headway before two of the men were cut down by demon arrows. Their sudden collapse brought us survivors down just in time to prevent more casualties. The gravity of the situation became clear to everyone present. Between us and the command platforms lay a burning mess. Whatever remained of what our forces tried to build now blocked our access to relative safety. Gihri ran down to the front line to examine his father's condition, but also to give the command to retreat.

“The battle is lost,” the elf prince shouted. “Cut those bloody ropes! Cut them! Now! We must leave.”

“Does anyone have a knife?” a soldier asked.

“Everyone get these ropes cut now!” Gihri kept shouting.

“Take my sword,” another soldier offered. “It'll be faster anyways.”

Men barked orders to and fro across the haphazardly assembled shield wall. Edagri's plan, which I was sure might have worked against other armies, had become a deathtrap. As the demons pressed harder against the shield wall, our forces became entangled in the unfinished mess of rope, wood, and stone. Demons began leaping over the wall, slicing against and jabbing into any flesh they could find. Some accidentally attacked their own in the chaos.

In the panicking mess, it became impossible to tell which direction was which. Front became back and left became right. Even I struggled to maintain my footing in the crush. Guaranteed though, I was going to cut down as many demons as I could before my body finally gave out. It was a good attempt, all things considered, but I alone could only have done so much.

“Men, we are about to commit a grievous sin tonight,” someone shouted in the distance. “May the Nine find it in their hearts to forgive us, for what we do, we do only in defense!”

I heard no other words that night. Soldiers and royals alike flapped their mouths, but no voices came out. Help had arrived, but… My heart began to skip beats, and a terrible pain came over my body. One by one, the sounds of battle gave way to silence until only the sound of my own heavily labored breathing remained. I felt nothing; even the weight of my own sword fell into the void as I continued slashing away. I saw nothing, though something had told my body to keep fighting.

A single horn call broke through the void. And then nothing…