Changing Fates

Episode 6 - The World Stone

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The rain had faded quickly, and the clouds spread again as the moonlight lit the path where they stood. Tasol’s smirk was hidden in the darkness, but she was right, the things they learned as children didn’t fade.

He walked toward the fallen hunter down the path behind him. “The least I can do is retrieve your–” Tasol said, pausing as he kneeled next to the body. He’d expected it to be a hunter, someone vaguely familiar from the underbelly of Bannion, but as the moon shed its eerie glow, the tattoos on his face were unmistakable. This wasn’t a water hunter, it was something different, much different. Myra noticed his hesitation.

“What is it?” she asked, the smirk gone from her face.

“Things have gotten more difficult for us,” he answered, running his fingers through his stringy, wet hair. “It isn’t anyone from Bannion. It’s a Seeker, from the Tower. It seems someone’s finally discovered us.”

“But how?” she asked, fear tinging her voice for the first time tonight. “Father said it was hidden, we were hidden. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

“You know as well as I do that this is no coincidence. He came for us. There can be no doubt about it.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” he said, interrupting her. “You know what this means, father was clear about it. We can’t stay–not now.” He leaned forward, pulling the dagger from the man’s skull, wiping it on the man’s cloak before handing it back to Myra. “We have to pack up and leave, tonight,” he said, turning to head back to the cave.

“Wait,” Myra whispered. “We still need to keep our wits.”

Those words caused Tasol to stop and turn back. Their father had drilled that phrase to them so much that Tasol had grown to despise it. Irritated, he turned back to her about to speak, but then paused as he saw her searching the Seeker’s pockets, looking for anything that might help them. She rolled the body this way and that, taking its backpack, committing to look through it later. Glancing back to Tasol, he motioned for her to hurry, but kept his eyes on the surrounding forest, his impatience growing with each pocket she searched. She stood, turning back to Tasol as the glint of the Seeker’s blades caught her eye. Reaching for the blades, it was clear they were of a design and workmanship beyond the means of the smiths in Bannion. Pulling the blades from the man’s grasp, she noticed he wore a ring, and she leaned down, struggling to remove it from his swollen fingers.

“What are you doing?” Tasol said, his irritation finally getting the better of him. “We need to go–now. Take what you can and let’s be off. Where there’s one of them, we can only assume there’ll be more.”

She turned, looking at him. “But it’s a ring. That could be many things, the least of which is a lot of coin. We may need something to trade.” She turned back, continuing to struggle with it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shit,” Tasol cursed, knowing she was right. He, too, knew the value of rings, or their potential value, but they were wasting valuable time. “Watch out,” he said, moving his sister’s hands out of the way as his machete flashed down. There was a dull cracking sound as the machete cut cleanly through the man’s wrist. “There, now you have the ring,” he said, picking up the hand and holding it out to his sister.

“That was gross,” she said slowly, “you always were so barbaric.” She dropped the hand into the backpack and they both turned, making their way to the cave. The moon had disappeared once again and the rain started to fall again, but harder this time. They splashed through puddles already forming on the ground as they arrived back at the cave. It’d be a good night in Bannion. With this moisture, all the rain coffers would be full for a few days, giving everyone some needed relief.

Tasol pulled up short of the cave entrance, pausing to scuffling sounds from inside. Motioning to Myra, he placed a finger on his lips, telling to be quiet. Inching closer, the sounds continued. He tried to get a look inside, but couldn’t. The stories about Seekers were often beyond belief, but now that he’d seen one, he wasn’t in a mood to press his luck again. Thanks to Myra, he’d survived, but he wasn’t going to make a mistake like that again.

They both crouched down, hiding in the darkness outside the door. Tasol motioned again, directing Myra to the other side of the entrance. She handed him one of the scavenged short swords from the Seeker as she passed by. He took it, feeling the weight in his hand, perfectly balanced. It was an assassin’s weapon, and he felt doubly lucky his sister had visited him tonight, but he still couldn’t shake the fact that a Seeker had found them, and now there was another. More sounds filtered out. They were searching for something–something Tasol couldn’t let them find. He motioned for Myra to follow as he slinked inside, sticking to the shadows as best he could. The table by the fire was turned over, and he scanned the room looking for the intruder, but saw nothing. His head snapped to the left, hearing the sound of someone trying to get into a locked cabinet without the key.

He rushed forward, bumping a chair, sending it skidding across the floor, revealing his position to the intruder, who turned, glaring at him. Seeing its beady eyes, Tasol let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s ok. It’s just a worhnock,” he said.

Scavengers at heart, worhnocks were a menace, a weird mix of a squirrel and a raccoon. It wasn’t the first time it’d visited his cave, but this time Tasol was grateful it was merely a worhnock instead of a Seeker. Upon seeing the two of them approaching, it turned, scrambling back and forth before spying a misguided escape route. It recklessly dashed forward, scattering embers from the fire, its furry tail catching fire before it finally disappeared into the night. Tasol turned, closing the door.

“Scrappy little bastards, aren’t they?” Myra said, starting to clean up the mess.

“There’s no need for that,” Tasol said, placing his hand on his sister’s back. “We have to leave this place, as soon as possible.”

Myra turned to meet his eyes, nodding without a word.

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