Hope Sundered

Ob’Riant was everything the desperate refugees had hoped for. The village was about the same size as Chastin, though the shouldering lake was smaller than the one at the heart of the Deep Wood. Both village and lake occupied a shallow valley cradled by rounded barren hills.

The locals welcomed the haggard survivors with open arms and open homes, providing every need and comfort. Injuries were tended and a bounty of food was provided with no expectation of recompense.

Keila ha’s task was now complete. A weight she hadn’t been aware of until then took flight from her shoulders and soared away. She’d honored her father by delivering the survivors to safety. Now she was free to avenge him.

That night she met with Ob’Riant’s mayor to recount her horrible tale and warn them of what could come. Much to her surprise, he had news of his own.

“A courier arrived two days ago on behalf of Lord Bel’ami with a call to arms,” he told her.

“Then they’ve reached Wyndham,” she said, her whisper wrapped in dread.

He nodded once. “Eighty-nine men rode out yesterday.”

Keila jolted forward. “That’s it?”

His brow crumpled with offense. “That’s every man we’ve got! Some’re still boys in my eyes!”

Keila closed her eyes and took and deep breath. “I spoke in haste, forgive me. Please understand, the Azrahteran army is massive. Believe me, I saw them with my own eyes. Ninety volunteers won’t be enough. We’ll need everyone from Seagate and Dioria, and even then we’ll be hard pressed.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t know what to tell you, m’lady. I realize you’ve suffered greatly, and you have my deepest sympathies, but Ob’Riant did her part. I’m sorry we didn’t meet your expectations.”

Keila winced in response to his scathing sarcasm. “I meant no disrespect. I just…I think I need some air.”

She fled from the mayor’s house and walked until she reached the shore of Ob’Riant Lake. The setting sun bloomed into a myriad of vibrant hues, which offered a comforting distraction. She perched upon an outcropping of rock and gazed at the distant landscape, longing to dissolve into a mist and float away on the breeze playing with the loose strands of her auburn hair.

The distant ridge of hills marked the southern border of Aveliria. A mile-wide gap in the ridge acted like a natural gateway in and out of the valley. The barren plain of the Southern Wilds lay open beyond that.

A man approached, but she didn’t notice. “Hello, Keila.”

Keila nearly lost her balance. “Maker’s mercy, man! Do you always sneak up on people?”

“It wasn’t my intention to startle you, please forgive me. You seemed lost in thought.”

She scowled and adjusted her position. “That’s usually the first hint to leave someone alone. Who are you?”

The man smiled, warm and inviting. He was tall and broad, with long white hair tied back. “My name is Briel. I’m known as a wanderer to some and a messenger to others, but a servant to most.”

Keila pursed her lips. “You could’ve just said ‘traveling merchant’.”

Briel smiled again but didn’t reply.

She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. “The mayor said all of the town’s men went to Wyndham.”

“I’m not from Ob’Riant.”

She looked away. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not buying anything.”

“I’m not selling anything.”

“Then you’re not a very good merchant. Please leave.” A chorus of insects filled the silence until her patience departed. She spun to face him. “Why are you still here?”

“Perhaps you could help me understand something. If hunting is scarce in familiar ground, where would you go?”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Are you serious? For a traveling merchant you sure haven’t traveled very far. Everyone knows you’d...find…new...ground…”

“Ah, of course! Thank you for answering my question.”

“Answering...your…” She looked up at Briel, still smiling. “I need to go.” She raced back to the mayor’s house and knocked until he answered. He wasn’t happy to see her, but concern painted his features when he noticed the matching urgency in her eyes and voice.

“May I have a horse?”

⸞ ⸎ ⸟

Ekard found Keila in the stables, saddling a stallion that seemed as eager to ride as she did. “The mayor said I’d find you here. Where are you going now?”

She chuckled as she shook her head. “You won’t like it.”

He grinned. “Probably not, but I’m coming with you anyway.”

She sighed. Despite his misplaced affection she couldn’t deny his loyalty, and knew she’d need his help before the end. “Fine. I’m going—well, we’re going, I suppose—to fetch an army.”

“Is that so? And just where do you believe …” Then it hit him, and his eyes grew wide with panic. “Keila, no!”

“You got a better idea?” she countered. He said nothing, though his smoldering eyes and clenched jaw spoke volumes. “That’s what I thought,” she huffed, returning her attention to the stallion.

“But they’re nomads!” he finally blurted. “Primitive, bloodthirsty savages!”

“The Nokri of the Southern Wilds are warriors,” she corrected him with a self-assured, determined tone. “And there are thousands of them.”