The Dawn of Malice

A Veiled Farewell

Days had passed, and their makeshift caravan hobbled its way through the beaten path.

A smart decision that they had made at the behest of Lucian was to have a smaller caravan of three men divert the attention of the army southward, whilst the main caravan was to head east. For the first week of their travels, Caerus and some of the men covered their tracks, shoveled horse dung away from the path, and made sure no evidence of their camp was to remain at daybreak.

One night, Lucian called for Caerus, the gentleman barely clinging to life as the blade that pierced him had managed to nick his arteries. The Laresian’s crimson eyes blinked crimson as he methodically pulsed lifeblood through his body, an arduous but necessary task to keep himself alive. Across his chest, his pulsating veins encircled the wound dealt by Julio, simultaneously stifling the bleeding, and pumping his heart.

Caerus felt distraught at his mentor’s current state. The infirmary tent was dimly lit, and the scent of herbs mingled heavily in the air. Caerus pushed aside the heavy canvas flap and stepped inside. His heart was heavy with dread. Lucian lay on a makeshift bed, his breathing shallow, wounds bandaged tightly.

“Lucian,” Caerus said softly, his voice laced with anguish. “I can’t bear to see you like this. We should find a way to get you proper medical attention.”

Lucian mustered a weak smile, his voice strained. “Caerus, my time is running short. We both know that. In a month, this caravan will reach the city of Oakcrest, I know of a prominent physician there who caters to our kind. Now, whether I live, or die is up to the Gods. But there is something important I need to discuss with you.”

Caerus’s eyes welled up with tears, his voice choked. “No, Lucian, please don’t speak like that. You’ll pull through this. I know you will.”

Lucian reached out, and Caerus took his hand in his. “The lifeblood in me is all that’s keeping me alive. I’ve managed to somehow stop myself from bleeding out but without a proper physician… I never would have thought that the scruffy incognizant pupil of mine would have faith in me that is this unwavering… but there are some battles even the strongest warriors cannot win.”

Caerus’s shoulders slumped, the weight of impending loss pressing upon him. “What is it you wanted to tell me, Lucian?” Lucian took a labored breath, his gaze steady despite his frailty.

“Take this,” Lucian revealed a crimson tome from beneath his blanket. “I need you to continue our journey through the mountain range of Dioses Mano, Caerus. Enter the city of Verdania and look for the Civic Athenaeum and its curator Erasmus Kaledin. Read this book when you are ready. All that you need to learn is hidden within its pages. I may not be able to answer your questions, but I believe Erasmus would.”

Caerus’s voice trembled as he protested, desperation evident in his tone. “But I can’t leave you here, Lucian. We’ve faced the siege together and you’ve helped me accept what I am. I won’t abandon you now.”

Lucian’s voice held a touch of urgency. “Caerus, this is bigger than us. It’s about the greater good, the potential to shape the fate of nations. I may not survive, but you must carry on. Promise me you’ll go.”

Caerus clenched his fists, his voice filled with turmoil. “I can’t promise that Lucian. I can’t just leave you here alone. What if something happens? What if I lose you?”

A new voice broke the silence, introducing itself. “Please excuse my intrusion but I’ve been listening to your conversation.” Caerus turned to see a rugged figure standing by the entrance of the tent, scars etched across his weathered face. His eyes held a glimmer of shared grief.

“Caspian,” Lucian said weakly, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and relief. “Thank you for being here.”

“I was the sole surviving member of General Roderick’s men. Lucian saved my life, just as he saved yours.” Caspian stepped closer, his tone earnest. “Caerus, I understand your hesitation, but we can honor Lucian’s sacrifice by fulfilling his wishes. I’ll accompany you, and together, we’ll navigate the treacherous mountains of Dioses Mano.”

Caerus met Caspian’s gaze, the weight of his mentor’s words settling upon him. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to Lucian.

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Lucian,” Caerus whispered, his voice breaking. “But if this is truly your wish, if it means carrying on your mission, then I’ll go.”

Lucian’s eyes softened, gratitude shining through his pain. “Thank you, Caerus. You have the potential to become a remarkable man.” Lucian’s grip tightened for a fleeting moment before loosening. “Remember, Caerus, the truest test of any man or woman is not the treasures, influence, or power they find, but the impact they have on the world.”

With that, Lucian’s eyes closed, his breathing growing faint. As Caerus reluctantly let go, Caspian placed a hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Together, they stepped out of the infirmary tent, their hearts heavy with grief and determination. The mountains of Dioses Mano awaited, and with each step, they vowed to honor Lucian’s legacy.

The following day, the air was thick with both anticipation and sorrow as Caerus prepared to embark on his journey, under the final orders of Lucian. The caravan buzzed with activity, its inhabitants going about their tasks unaware of the heavy burden that weighed on Caerus’ heart. Alongside him stood Caspian both united by a shared sense of duty and an unspoken understanding.

“I must go alone,” Caerus said. Caspian silently nodded and went off to pack his belongings. As Caerus walked toward his tent, he saw Marseille, a grim expression on his face.

“Where do you think you going?” Marseille said.

“You know I can’t stay uncle,” replied Caerus “If I’m around this caravan people will begin to grow suspicious. I am still a Laresian. And it was the Laresian’s army that laid siege to our home…”

“And? What does that have to do with anything? You fought for us, and your mentor was willing to give his life for us. Even as we speak, your mentor lays in bed, barely holding on to life.”

Caerus’s head slumped on his shoulders for he did not want to leave. Who in their right mind would even want to leave Elaine? After all they’d been through, he could not bear to see her get hurt again, to lie to her again. Marseille placed a tender hand on Caerus’s shoulder and Caerus looked up at his surrogate father, a tear on his solemn face.

“You have to go,” Marseille said, “and there’s nothing I can do to stop you, correct?” Caerus nodded. “Then I bid you farewell until we meet again. This caravan will first seek asylum at Oakcrest and travel to Caernarfon. When the time is right for you, seek us out at the Barclay estates. You have been like a son to me. All these years, I knew you were avoiding the tavern. You foolish boy, I knew you did not want to cause trouble for me.” Marseille wiped a tear from his eyes. “You’re just as much of a son to me as Elaine is my daughter.” Marseille gave the young man a kind smile and Caerus bawled at his kind words.

“I’ll have to hurt Elaine again uncle,” Caerus managed to say.

“Do what you must…” Marseille said, “If you think it’s right. Then I’ll trust your judgment.”

Marseille limped away as soon as he’d finished speaking. Caerus watched as the remnants of his past life were now slowly eluding him. Caerus moved to his tent and dug through his clothing, packing what he needed for the journey while letting his tears fall and sobbing audibly.

An hour later Caerus emerged from his tent. Determined yet heartsick, Caerus donned a clever disguise, concealing his identity. He made his way to Elaine finding her near her wagon, her sight stolen temporarily by the unleashed powers she possessed. Her face turned towards the heavens, betraying a sense of vulnerability and frustration.

“Elaine,” Caerus’s disguised voice called out, attempting to cloak the pain that surged beneath the surface. “I bear grave news, news of Caerus.”

Elaine’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, her sightless eyes searching the air for its source. Despite her blindness, she recognized the familiar cadence, the hidden layers of Caerus’ true essence. However, she chose not to reveal her knowledge, allowing him to proceed with the charade he felt compelled to enact.

“Speak,” she replied, her voice laden with anguish and simmering anger. “Tell me about Caerus.”

Caerus, hidden behind his artful disguise, felt his heart constrict at the tremor in Elaine’s voice. He knew he was about to inflict yet another wound upon her already fragile heart. His voice carefully maintained but betraying traces of his identity, responded.

“Caerus,” he began, his disguised voice laced with sorrow, “has decided to leave the caravan, he asked me to inform you of his decision. He said he was too much of a coward to confront you himself. Lucian commanded him to trek toward the mountains of Dioses Mano. He journeys accompanied only by Caspian.”

Elaine’s face contorted with a mix of pain and fury, her emotions threatening to spill over. “Again,” she cried out, her voice shaking with anguish. “He leaves me again, without thought of the pain he inflicts, without considering the heart he shatters.”

Caerus, concealed beneath his disguise, fought back the tears that threatened to betray his true self. He yearned to reach out, to console Elaine in his real form, but he knew he had to honor the role he had assumed, even as her anguished words pierced his heart.

“He knows,” Caerus replied, his voice heavy with regret. “But duty binds him, driving him forward on a path he cannot stray from.”

Elaine’s anguish escalated. Her voice was raw with pain. “Tell him,” She pleaded, her words laced with anger and sorrow, “tell him that he tears at my heart, that his absence rips apart the love we share. Tell him that I am tired of being left behind, tired of being a casualty of his quest. And please, give him my gift. I was able to recover it in the debris of my father’s tavern.” Elaine gave Caerus the singed gift box, which he accepted tenderly.

Caerus, his disguised facade threatening to crumble under the weight of their shared pain, lowered his gaze, struggling to maintain composure. “Your words will be delivered,” he whispered, his voice tinged with an unspoken plea for forgiveness. “Caerus shall know of your anguish, your anger. And when he returns, may he find a way to heal the wounds he has inflicted upon your heart.”

Elaine’s tears flowed freely now, her voice filled with a mix of love and sorrow. “He must understand,” she murmured her words a tender plea. “He must understand the depth of my pain and the strength it takes to endure his absence.

Caerus, his heart breaking, reached out instinctively, his hand hovering near Elaine’s but not quite touching her. With a final, lingering look, he turned away, knowing that their path now diverged. He left her with the unspoken truth, that she had seen through his disguise, that she had known all along. But he also left her with despair that their love, though tested and wounded, would not find a way to endure the trials.

From this day onward, they will never be the same.

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the canvas of the tent, Elaine stirred, her heart filled with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. It had been a harrowing journey since she lost her sight in a devastating outburst of magical power, but now, a glimmer of hope shone on the horizon. Guiding her hand through the darkness was Edith, who had since become her steadfast companion.

Blinking her eyes open, Elaine blinked away the remnants of sleep, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned her gaze to Edith, who stood by her side, offering unwavering support. A soft smile graced the child’s face, their eyes reflecting a deep bond that had formed between them.

“Edith,” Elaine whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of anticipation and hope. “Will today be the day? Will I see you again?”

Edith’s small hand slipped into Elaine’s, their touch warm and comforting. “I believe in you, sister. You said you could see light again – your eyes will be fixed soon.”

With those words of encouragement, Elaine summoned her courage and rose from her bedroll. She stood tall, her heart filled with determination, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Edith’s hand gently guided her through the camp, navigating the maze of tents and makeshift structures that comprised their caravan.

As they ventured forth, Elaine’s other senses heightened, compensating for her lack of sight. She listened intently to the murmurs of conversation, the rustling of fabric, and the clattering of pots and pans. Each sound offered a glimpse into the vibrant world she longed to see once more.

Elaine cautiously approached the mule-drawn cart where Lucian was recuperating. The rhythmic sound of Lucian’s labored breathing helped her point herself in the right direction. The air carried a faint scent of healing herbs, evidence of Lucian’s ongoing recovery.

As Elaine drew nearer, she could make out the shape of Lucian’s figure lying inside the cart. She reached out with trembling hands, her fingertips brushing against the edge of the cart’s wooden frame. A soft smile played on her lips as she spoke, her voice gentle and filled with concern.

“Lucian, it’s Elaine. How are you faring today?”

Lucian’s gruff voice responded, laced with gratitude and fatigue. “Lady Elaine, it’s good to hear your voice. I’m healing, slowly but surely. And I’m ashamed to be the one making use of the only beast of burden in this caravan.”

“None sense, Lucian.” Elaine reproached, “You’re the reason we were able to escape Liliosa. You deserve to be treated better.”

Elaine carefully climbed into the cart, sitting beside Lucian. Her fingers gently traced the lines of his face, her touch both comforting and inquisitive. She sighed softly and spoke with a hint of melancholy.

“I miss him, Lucian. Caerus, I mean. He left us, searching for his true lineage, his purpose. I understand his quest, but it still weighs heavy on my heart.”

Lucian coughed a harsh and painful sound that caused Elaine to pause. She reached for a cloth, pressing it against his lips until the coughing subsided. When he caught his breath, he spoke with a raspy voice, laced with wisdom.

“Elaine, sometimes the paths we must walk are not meant to be shared. Caerus carries a burden, a destiny that only he can face. He made the right decision to leave, to seek his truth. Trust in his strength, just as he trusted in yours.”

Elaine’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice quivering with a mixture of sadness and longing. She turned her gaze to the child Edith, who had remained by her side, holding her hand throughout the conversation.

“Edith, do you think he’ll return? Will Caerus find what he’s looking for and come back to us?”

Edith’s small hand tightened around Elaine’s, a silent reassurance amidst the turmoil of emotions. The child held her tongue unsure of what to say to reassure her.

Elaine’s tears finally spilled over, cascading down her cheeks. She leaned her head against Edith’s tiny shoulder, seeking solace in her presence. Edith could offer only a gentle embrace, silently supporting her in her grief.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as Lucian coughed violently, a spray of blood staining the cloth that Elaine held to his mouth. Concern etched deep lines on Elaine’s face as she hastily removed the cloth, her voice tinged with worry.

“Lucian, you need rest. I’ll leave you to recover. But know that we are here for you, and we will stand by your side, just as you have stood by ours.”

With a heavy heart, Elaine slowly stood up and made her way out of the cart. She glanced back at Lucian, who lay in the cart, his gaze filled with gratitude and weariness. The child Edith followed Elaine, her presence a source of strength in the face of uncertainty.

As Elaine stepped away from the cart, leaving Lucian to find solace in sleep, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. Though her heart ached for Caerus, she knew that their paths had diverged for a reason. With Edith’s hand clasped tightly in hers, Elaine resolved to embrace the challenges that lay ahead and to be a beacon of hope for those who needed her most.

Their first stop was the communal area, where provisions were stored, and meals were prepared. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, tantalizing Elaine’s senses. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against the rough texture of the woven baskets, ensuring that the supplies were well-stocked.

Edith led Elaine to the area where the meals were being distributed, their footsteps accompanied by the soft murmur of conversation and laughter. Elaine extended her hand, tracing the contours of each plate, feeling the warmth radiating from the freshly cooked food. With practiced care, she ensured that each member of their caravan received their fair share, a small act of kindness amidst the chaos they had endured.

As Elaine moved from person to person, she could hear the joyous exclamations and grateful murmurs of those she served. Their voices painted a vivid picture in her mind, the tapestry of their expressions and emotions brought to life by the descriptions they shared. Each interaction filled Elaine with a renewed sense of purpose, reinforcing her commitment to their collective survival.

Throughout the day, Elaine continued to navigate the caravan, checking on the various members and their needs. Her touch became more assured, her movements more fluid, as she embraced the challenge of adapting to her evolving senses. Edith, ever by her side, offered guidance and support, her presence a great help in Elaine’s journey toward reclaiming her sight.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the camp, Elaine found herself filled with gratitude. Though her sight had yet to fully return, she knew that she had embarked on a remarkable path. The journey to regain her vision was not only about herself but also about the strength, resilience, and compassion she could bring to her fellow travelers.

With each passing day, Elaine’s vision grew stronger, and the world around her became clearer. And she knew that guided by Edith, and fueled by determination, the day would come when she would see once more, beholding the beauty and wonder of the world that had been denied to her for so long.