Aurix the Bold

Nothing could have prepared them for the sight of the Ixian Plain. A sea of swaying scarlet stems capped with blood red flowers stretched nearly as far as the eye could see. The caples hooves were stained crimson from plodding through the fallen petals. Sun-bleached bones and skulls littered the ground in stark contrast to the plants and soil. Tears stung Aurix’s eyes as the vastness of what Valeria had lost in The Cleaving sunk in. And somewhere, perhaps nearby, was the very place that his mother and father had fallen to Rhexis’ Sword.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, even to those who’d chosen to risk their lives with him, Aurix was terrified. His survival instinct begged and pleaded and screamed for him to turn and run. Every step nearer to Glynn grew heavier, each slightly harder to take than the last. Knowing that he was putting his friends in very real danger for a near impossible goal weighed on him greatly. It would be much easier for him—much lighter—if he could stand against Xu’ul alone. He’d already lost one friend—a man who’d served so many kings and survived so many lifetimes, that his undignified death on Skypierce seemed especially cruel.

Aurix could see the walls of Glynn in the distance, appearing to rise out of an ocean of blood. He knew that within, a merciless tyrant garbed from head to toe in the Armor of Gods waited for him. And yet he rode on. He had only an enchantress, a Shapebreaker, and a colossus at his side to stand (and possibly fall) against countless enemies. Still he rode on. He had no plan—just a steadfast conviction that someone needed to stand against a ruthless evil—that things needed to be set right again. That he needed to set them right again. And so he rode on.

Their mood was somber as they journeyed through the fields of the dead. No one spoke for a long time. Even as they camped overnight among the eavesdropping necronim, they said little. Aurix turned the Tear between his fingers for countless hours—likely some of the last of his life—willing it to share its purpose with him. It availed him not at all.

They started north again at first light. They were within an arc of reaching the capital city when Aurix finally stopped Aoni and turned her so that he was facing his companions.

“I don’t want you to go any further,” he said, his cheeks hot with unshed tears. “Certain death awaits us within those walls.”

“That’s not your decision anymore, Aurix,” Inanna said quietly.

“No, it’s not,” Regulus agreed. “And certain death awaits us all. How we die is far less important than how we live. I, for one, will not live as a coward under Xu’ul’s reign for one more day.”

“We’d go on even without you,” Inanna said. “But we’re glad to stand with you, just the same.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for your deaths,” Aurix said.

“No one has died yet, lad.” Regulus said. “And no matter what happens next, it is not your burden to bear—no more so than those that fell here are the fault of Ra Addix. The blame is Xu’ul’s alone.”

“I will still feel responsible,” Aurix said, stroking Nyx’s throat. She was agitated and picked at the cloth that held her wing in place with her beak.

“Feel responsible for making us believe in the goodness in you, Aurix, and in ourselves,” Regulus told him. “Feel responsible for reminding us that there are things worth fighting for even if it seems that fight can’t be won. Feel responsible for giving our lives purpose and our deaths meaning, if it comes to that. But you do not get to feel responsible if we fall in battle today. We know exactly what we’re getting ourselves into.”

Aurix looked at his friends and nodded. “Thank you both.”

“Hey,” Inanna said, shrugging with one shoulder. “It’s our honor to fight with you. Besides, we’re not letting you get all of the glory on your own.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her bravado.

“We are always at your service, Aurix the Bold.” Regulus told him.

Aurix looked at the hawk still perched on his shoulder. She tugged at the cloth binding her with her beak and clawed at it with talons as black as her feathers. “And whatever oath you are bound by, Nyx, you’re free of it now.”

She stopped fussing with her bandage, turned her head to him and shrieked a single time.

“Well that settles it,” Regulus said. “Let’s finish this.”