Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 14 (Patreon)

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen 

Chapter Fourteen – Dangers of Different Kinds

Toru pondered while looking at his traveling companions, one by one. Although the thick coat on his back protected him from the cold, he had grown up in the jungle and preferred it. Also, Shearah had said that Duril might suffer if they were to take the path to the Scarlet Peaks and he didn’t like that idea at all. As much as he was curious about what a hermit stranded on the tallest peak of the tallest mountain in Eawirith – as the young witch told them – could do all day long to fill his hours, he wasn’t keen on battling strange beasts along the way. Plus, since so many people could already say they had been there and seen the hermit, it felt to Toru like there was only one choice.

“We’ll go to Scercendusa,” he said, bringing his hands together and linking his fingers.

“Spoken like a true leader,” Varg commended him and patted him on the back.

Toru felt a bit guilty. “Do you want to go see the hermit? But I think they will have many marvelous foods in Scercendusa, right?”

Varg caught his right ear and tugged at it slightly. “That’s not the most important thing that should be on our minds.”

“It’s one of them, and it’s my destiny anyway,” Toru replied petulantly. “And my destiny is to eat many tasty foods, or else it’s someone else’s destiny.”

“Fair enough,” Varg admitted. “Now, it wouldn’t hurt to hear a little more about Scercendusa. Shearah, what can you tell us about the place? I’ve only heard of it, and it looks like Claw is the only one of us who got somewhat close to it, without ever visiting.”

“You might think that going to the heart of the world would spare you from a great amount of danger,” Shearah said. “Danger can play dress up wearing many different garments.” Her gravelly voice made Toru perk up his ears. By how the others leaned slightly forward, he could tell that they were also all eyes and ears, eager to hear the young witch tell them about that – for now – mysterious place.

“We are made for it,” Claw said and closed his fist. “Regardless of how it may present itself, I’d say that our unsullied hearts will see through its deceit.”

Toru smiled. It was good to have allies, and Claw’s words went straight to his heart.

“That is your foundation, the goodness in your souls,” Shearah said and tipped her head slightly in confirmation. “Yet, the unlikely nature of the evil you’ve confronted so far makes me believe that it can use guile and treachery to hide deep within the very souls of men.”

Toru groaned. “If I didn’t know you were a witch, I would be so mad at you right now, Lighty.”

They all guffawed like children at his reprimand. Even Shearah joined them. “It was nice of you to give me a name.”

“While you were a tiny bug,” Toru hurried to add. Duril tapped his hand in warning, but he lived for a good challenge.

Shearah’s big luminous eyes flashed at him, but she laughed gently. “I should have known you would be the kind to tease whenever you had the chance. But why would you be mad at me, Toru?”

“Because you talk so complicated,” Toru pointed out. “Why don’t you say what clothes you think the evil will dress in so that we can recognize it and strike it where it stands?”

“If it were so simple, you would be back home by now, telling the stories of your adventures. And that’s not just my witch talk,” Shearah explained. “Duril told me at great length about your travels and what you’ve had to go against so far. I cannot pretend that I am as wise as the witch from Whitekeep, Agatha, or the librarian from Shroudharbor, Elidias, but I will try to prepare you for your travels to Scercendusa as much as I can.”

“Our decision is made,” Duril said. “We all stand by Toru’s decision to travel to Scercendusa, so it would help us a great deal if you told us what you know of the place.”

Shearah nodded and closed her eyes, searching her memories. “Eawirith is a far and wide place. From coast to coast, you will encounter places inhabited by hardworking people, blessed by the weather, as well as harsh winters in the north, where the look in men’s and women’s eyes is as dark as the clouded sky above. And you will also find large stretches of land on which nothing grows.”

“Like the Great Barren,” Duril said. “It’s not true that nothing grows there, though.”

Shearah didn’t mind the interruption. “There are worse places than the desert of Zukh Kalegh.”

“Worse than that?” Toru expressed his wonder at her words. “What could be worse than having to eat snake stew all day long?”

“Maybe having nothing to eat whatsoever,” Varg intervened.

Toru scrunched up his nose. “I think that would be bad, indeed.”

All eyes turned toward Shearah, encouraging her silently to continue. She obliged right away. “As I was saying, Eawirith is a large place. So for someone to claim that one city is above the entire continent would be farfetched, hollow. People everywhere, however, always feel the need for something to hold all things together, even the threads of their destiny. Even more so that, perhaps.” She paused for a moment, and they waited patiently. “Scercendusa is an old and new place, and many believe it is the past of Eawirith, its present, and its future, all in one. Anyone who wants to carve for themselves a life like no other would be wise to travel there and see all the wonders of the world brought together under the gentle hand of the city’s domestikos.”

“Domestikos?” Toru asked.

“The local ruler,” Shearah explained.

“The old man who could answer our questions?” Toru inquired further.

“Yes,” Shearah confirmed. “To say that Scercendusa is the heart of an empire would be wrong because that would mean that the man sitting at its highest peak of power should be called an emperor or a king. Scercendusa’s domestikos would be the first to contradict you if you addressed him in such a fashion.”

“But there are places all over the world where men and women assume the roles of kings and queens,” Duril said.

The healer must have learned of such places while toiling inside Elidias’s monumental library, bent over old texts and straining his eyes. Toru had only heard fairytales of royal beings and always thought of them as creatures from distant lands that he would never meet face to face. This domestikos Shearah was talking about appeared to be the kind of man who would fit that role perfectly, no matter what the young witch said. Toru felt rightfully curious about the place and its ruler, and his thirst for adventure was growing fiercer by the moment.

“That is seen as self-indulgent and nothing more,” Shearah said.

“Seen by who?” Toru asked. “The domestikos of Scercendusa?”

Shearah confirmed with a nod of the head. “He might strike you at first glance as a humble and pious man, but do not let his appearance fool you. At the heart of the world, he rules with a fist of iron, maybe cleverly draped in velvet, but as strong and unforgiving as you might expect from someone who’s dealt ruthlessly with anyone believing themselves powerful enough to conquer the fortress.”

“Have the kings and queens of the world tried to conquer Scercendusa?” Toru asked.

“Indeed they have. The glory of the entirety of Eawirith can be admired in the majestic halls of the palace where the domestikos lives, in the streets paved with polished golden rocks, in the many prestigious works displayed in the libraries of the city, or the paintings hanging on the walls of the richest people’s houses. I could speak of Scercendusa for hours, and I would barely scratch the surface of the tales there are to tell.”

“Do you think the evil we’ve been fighting chose to hide there next?” Toru asked, convinced that he couldn’t be the only one to wonder about it.

“It would be a good place for something capable of such malice to do so,” Shearah said, confirming his suspicions. “That doesn’t mean, of course, that it is the truth. You’ve followed your heart so far, and it hasn’t lied to you.”

Toru wasn’t sure if it was his heart wanting for them to travel to Scercendusa or just his curiosity. All the places he had traveled to so far were mostly hamlets and small towns. Shroudharbor had been the most grandiose he had seen, and if the heart of Eawirith was a lot more impressive than that, he needed to see it.

“We can always go to see the hermit at the Scarlet Peaks later, can’t we?” he asked.

“If time is on your side, without a doubt,” Shearah said. “However, all choices belong to you, and I cannot put myself in your shoes so that I can tell you what to do. I’m merely your guide at this point of your journey, and I’m honored by it, nonetheless.”

Toru traded a glance with Duril. The healer nodded and took his hand. It could be that he wasn’t the only one eager to see the many beauties of Scercendusa and to meet the domestikos ruling it with an iron fist, as the young witch said.

“How come you know so many things about that place?” Varg asked.

“I’m made from fragments of the wind, remember?” Shearah offered them a congenial smile. “Even if I stay here at The Quiet Woods, every traveler down to the tiniest speck of dust, speaks into my ear.”

“Duril can understand what the wind says, too,” Toru said with self-importance and let go of Duril’s hand only so that he could sneak one arm around his shoulders.

“I know that very well,” Shearah said with a sly smile.

“She helped me on that path,” Duril explained and touched his chest where Toru had seen the silver flower.

“I know, but still, someone has to say it,” Toru insisted.

“Will we be able to meet the domestikos?” Varg asked a much more sensible question. “It’s fair to assume that he must meet many people every day.”

“That much is true,” Shearah confirmed. “I’m afraid, however, that I don’t have any advice on how you could gain entrance to see him. People from all over Eawirith seek an audience with him, and it is nothing unusual for many of them to wait for months until they end up being received.”

“Months?” Toru pursed his lips and frowned. “Does the hermit at the Scarlet Peaks also have many people trying to get to him and ask him questions?”

“I doubt it,” Shearah replied. “After all, the road there is challenging and dangerous.”

“But you said that Scercendusa is also dangerous in other ways.”

“Indeed. It doesn’t mean that people wouldn’t back down from one kind of danger and hurry into the arms of another.”

Toru scratched his head. “Ah, that’s so hard to understand.”

“We will have to gain an audience with him one way or another.” Varg crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully. “As any city of the magnitude deemed worthy to be called the heart of the world, it must have an army of well-off citizens that might have a quest or two for people like us.”

“That is good thinking, master wolf,” Shearah agreed. “On the upside, you won’t be seen as peculiar the moment you set foot there. With so many people traveling there from all corners of Eawirith, you won’t draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves.”

“Is it important to be as inconspicuous as possible?” Duril inquired.

“Without a doubt. The evil you’re telling me about manifests in various ways. Surely, learning of your presence, if it is there, it will have time to lay traps and try to catch you when you’re the least aware.”

“And usually, being ordinary in a place like that means that we can move without eliciting unwanted attention from the city’s guardians,” Claw said.

“What do you mean by that?” Toru asked, curious of the bearshifter’s words. “Are the guardians bad people?”

“They’re in charge of protecting the domestikos down to their lowest ranks,” Shearah explained. “The ruler of the city is often at the receiving end of attempts on his life. The guardians’ most important role is to be vigilant and keep such unfortunate happenings away from their esteemed commander.”

“The domestikos is also the guardians’ commander?” Toru asked.

“He is the head of the administration, the commander of both the guardians and the troops stationed outside the city walls, and the holder of absolute truth. Any belief in anything but what he allows the people to place their trust in is squashed in its infancy.”

“He sounds like a tyrant,” Duril commented.

“People believe in him. The momentary prosperity of the city is the work of his hands.”

“How old is he?” Toru asked.

“Past his prime, but nowhere near a grave,” Shearah offered. “They say his wit is as sharp as a blade, and that his eyes, although clouded by age, can still see well enough for him to shoot down a gray-headed albatross in mid-air with his bow.”

“He seems to be an extraordinary man, indeed,” Varg said. “We should be wise to tread lightly, without a doubt. I don’t believe that walking in there and telling everyone who cares to listen that we are on a quest to save the world would endear us to him.”

“Nothing is truer than that,” Shearah agreed.

“What’s his name?” Toru asked.

“Ewart Kona, but you would be wise to address him as Enlighted One,” Shearah replied.

“A notch better than Your Majesty or Your Highness,” Varg commented dryly.

Shearah laughed. “You might have a point, master wolf. Don’t forget, however, that the domestikos has every reason to demand to be addressed in such a fashion. He has saved Scercendusa on numerous occasions, and he has been in power for the last fifty years.”

“Fifty years? He must be very old.”

“That, again, is something that you had better not say to his face,” Shearah advised. “He doesn’t consider himself a frail man, and he prefers simple dress and the quiet of his personal chapel when the matters of the city don’t require his presence.”

“I will see this old man,” Toru decided. “And he will answer all our questions.” Only then, he realized that he didn’t precisely know what those were. He would have to ask Duril, Varg, and Claw later. The call of the road was slowly taking root in his heart again.

***

“Shearah recommends us to be cautious,” Varg began after their meeting with the young witch of The Quiet Woods. “It would be wise if we decided on what our plan is once we get there.”

He had noticed Toru stealing glances at him with questions in his eyes. The tigershifter had chosen their next destination, but it appeared that he didn’t know what to do with all the things Shearah had told them.

“That’s true,” Claw said with a short nod. “We must be prepared for the maddening crowds on the streets of Scercendusa.”

“How do we prepare? Should we fight them?” Toru asked. “I can fight anyone.”

“That would surely land us in the able hands of the guardians,” Claw replied. “When I speak about maddening crowds, I don’t mean only those that go about their business in a place deemed as the heart of the world. Many will move in shadows and greet us with sugar on their tongues.”

Varg had seen his fair share of would-be nobles in his travels. Without a doubt, he could barely imagine a city built on ambitions and arousing the envy of everyone across the continent. It was an idea that he didn’t want to express out loud; no matter how equipped they had so far seemed to be for a life of adventures, it was hard to tell if they would be able to move through the meandering intentions of a place like Scercendusa with the same ease. Toru was right to prefer enemies that went straight at him, not bothering for a moment with schemes and hidden intentions.

“I believe that there are many places where we will be able to search for answers,” Duril joined the conversation. “Scercendusa abounds in libraries where precious tomes are kept; Shearah told us as much.”

“But what should our questions be?” Toru asked. “Even if we get to meet the old man, what do we ask him?”

“One thing we should inquire about,” Varg began, “is anything that he might know of the destiny you are to fulfill, Toru. We know that another tiger, in another time, must have saved the world from evil. Learning from what he did to succeed in his quest would be very helpful. Also, the nature of the evil we’ve been going against for so long still eludes us. Since Scercendusa is as old as Eawirith, as some people say, we might find knowledge there that would help us.”

He knew that Toru couldn’t be bothered too much with complicated matters, but the rest of them were there, by his side, to carefully pull the thread out of the tangled mess of destiny and hand it to him so that he could do the work he was ordained to do.

“We must be very clever and humble about it,” Claw said. “Shearah knows why she stresses the importance of caution. We fought the toughest beasts of Zukh Kalegh and shifter murderers, and yet, I tell you, my friends, that we are not very well equipped to face what waits for us in Scercendusa. What would the ruler of the world, as humble as he might pretend to be, think about having a contender to his power?”

“I’m not looking to overthrow him,” Toru said. “I just need to find the evil if it’s there and defeat it.”

Things were that simple for someone pure like Toru. Varg knew, however, why Claw insisted on taking steps to assure their success. The bearshifter had been trapped in the labyrinth under the house of merchants in Shroudharbor for centuries after falling prey to the machinations of people who didn’t care to confront others fairly. He also had to know a lot about sugarcoated tongues and whatnot. Varg wanted to listen more to what he had to say.

“Even if we tell him that you have no ambition to overthrow him, it might not sit well with him,” Claw explained. “Ewart Kona has the experience of a lifetime by his side, but not for one moment, should you believe that it has made him wise beyond the limitations and liabilities of any human being.”

“What is Claw saying?” Toru asked Varg directly.

“The domestikos is used to having absolute power over a city that is as absolute as a city on the face of the world can be. That is the kind of power that corrupts even the strongest spirits. Shearah tells us that he is wise, but also cunning. He offers those who meet him a gentle smile and a kind word, but there is also blood on his hands.”

“We have blood on our hands, too,” Toru intervened. “Does it make us bad people?”

“No, it doesn’t. We fought to save ourselves and others. But there are conflicts, and then other conflicts. Not all justify a bloodbath,” Varg continued. “Shearah was right to believe that it would take her days and nights to tell us everything she knew about Scercendusa and its ruler. One thing is clear, the way I see it. We must play the old man’s game so that he knows we follow the same rules. It’s our best shot at making him believe that we’re not interested in taking over his ephemeral power.”

“How do we do that?” Toru asked, craning his neck to look into Varg’s eyes as they walked through the forest. “I don’t know how to talk to people who sit on thrones.”

“I doubt he sits on a throne, given the way he likes to make people believe in his humility and piety.”

Claw agreed with a low grunt. “That is a very dangerous man, someone who believes that the truth and all that is just are his heaven-given right.”

“But why?” Toru insisted. “He sees to his destiny, and we should see to ours. And we have yet to learn whether he is a bad or a good man.”

Varg knew Toru was right. But it was the duplicity of humans Shearah had tried to warn them about by telling them what she knew of the place and its domestikos. Without a doubt, Ewart Kona wanted nothing but the best for Scercendusa. His love for a city that had stood the tests of time and continues to do so while offering help and solace to people everywhere, as well as an ideal to which they could reach with their hands and grab, had to be unrivaled. Other domestikoi before him had enjoyed shorter, more tumultuous reigns, and while the city endured, their names had not. It was unlikely that a man who had been threatened, poisoned, speared and held at a blade’s mercy would be too ingratiating with a group of strangers claiming to be the ones come to save the world from an evil with no name. From there to considering that they only wanted to grab the seat of power from underneath him was a pebble’s throw.

“I should have chosen to go to the Scarlet Peaks,” Toru said, without a doubt considering Varg’s silence some sort of accusation. “Can I take it back?”

Varg grabbed him by one shoulder and squeezed hard enough for the young tiger to understand that they were all by his side. “Should we back down from a challenge, only because we’ve never met the same danger before? That’s not like you, kitty.”

“No, it’s not. But Scercendusa sounds like a horrible place,” Toru argued. “I bet they put poison in their tea at sunrise.”

They all laughed at that.

“I doubt they do such a thing. Aren’t we getting a bit too scared in the face of what we imagine of the place? We have yet to arrive there and see this domestikos with our own eyes. He could be a nice old man who won’t mind telling us a thing or two about the history of the world, a history he must know a lot better than many other people on the face of Eawirith.” Varg smiled as he saw Toru’s face lightening.

“You’re right, Varg,” he admitted. “We should face this challenge and see if there is at least any good food in Scercendusa.”

“A noble quest, indeed,” Varg admitted.

Duril and Claw joined in. “It wouldn’t be a place worth talking about if they didn’t have at least some cakes of renown,” the bearshifter said.

“And I’ll have some smoked meat with us that I’ll keep for you just in case we find ourselves going hungry,” Duril added.

That appeared enough to convince Toru that his first choice was indeed, the right one. Still, Varg couldn’t hide himself from worry, not entirely. They had faced throngs of orcs in the Great Barren, armies of darkness at Fairside, and the malice of the evil spirits in Shroudharbor. And yet, the sweet tongues of those experienced in weaving the destinies of many made him believe that the toughest challenge lay before them.

***

By now, they should have been used to taking their farewells. Duril somehow doubted that it would ever be something he would become good at, and he didn’t think that only of himself, but also of his companions. However, the most difficult burden lay on Claw’s shoulders, as the bearshifter had to say goodbye to the friends he had just regained from the hands of an unbearable fate.

“We know what you’re here for,” Willow said as soon as they approached the encampment they had put together only the day before.

Claw walked slowly to meet his childhood friend, leaving Toru, Varg, and Duril a bit behind. He had already told them that he had to be the one to deal with their parting, and it looked like the proud bearshifter wasn’t hesitating to march forward and meet challenges of his own. “You do? Where is Beast?”

“Having a little nap for the pleasure of his belly,” Willow replied and smiled. “Don’t you fret about him. Now tell us why you’d have us worried about you again.”

Claw sighed and rubbed his furrowed eyebrows. Now, he was standing face to face with Willow, and Duril, just like the others, waited a few feet apart, not wanting to intrude on a conversation that wouldn’t be easy, not even for someone as fearless as Claw.

“The Quiet Woods have a new beginning,” Claw began.

“Indeed they have, thanks to you,” Willow countered and crossed his arms. “With all due respect to your friends, what makes you think that we’d be willing to let you go after you forgot about us for so long?”

“I never forgot you,” Claw replied.

Duril was watching the two speakers, his heart going out to both. To have such friends who cared that you were planning to leave them behind, it wasn’t something easy to deal with.

“But this is my path now,” the bearshifter continued.

“I knew you would say something like that,” Willow admitted. “From a young age, you were a wanderer, more so than anyone else growing up here.”

“So you understand,” Claw said with a small smile.

“Not quite.” Willow stared at him long and hard, and then looked at their group. “Although I must say that I understand some of it. We cannot compete with the likes of your new friends, can we?”

“It is nothing like that,” Duril began speaking before he could help himself. “We want to thank you for your hospitality, but Claw belongs to us, too. And he will come back to you one day.”

“As soon as we defeat the evil that wants to eat up the world,” Toru rushed to the rescue in his own way. “Then, we’ll come here to eat steak and even some of that sauce you make.”

Willow laughed gently and shook his head. Then, he suddenly flicked Claw’s nose in a playful manner. “You didn’t dare to come here alone and face our begging and tears, did you?”

Claw responded with a grin of his own. “I knew you’d be too proud to cry and go on a bended knee to ask me to stay.”

“Maybe he is, but I’m not.” Beast surprised everyone by barreling out of the hut behind them and rushing toward Claw. Seemingly effortlessly, he pushed Claw to the ground and straddled him, ready to fight. The bearshifter offered no opposition and laughed instead of fighting back. Beast growled, low in his throat.

“That is nothing like begging or crying,” Claw pointed out. “Wrestling me to the ground might help you a little, but I still plan on going, Beast.”

“It’s that old call, isn’t it? That voice in your ear telling you that you must be destined for greater things than just living a happy worry-free life here at The Quiet Woods,” Beast said and didn’t let go of Claw.

“Claw is not conceited,” Duril protested.

Varg put a hand on his shoulder. “Allow his friends to make fun of him a little. Just look at them, smirking at how good they got us, making us fall for their little show.”

Willow and Beast exchanged a glance and then burst into laughter. “It was worth it, seeing how guilty you all looked about taking Claw from us.” Willow helped Beast to his feet, and then Claw. “We know him too well to ask him to stay if he got it in his head that he must go. That didn’t go that well when he headed to that awful place with merchants. But we have a different feeling about your lot.”

“What do you mean by that?” Toru inquired, looking ready to battle Willow for Claw.

It was Duril’s turn to hold the feisty tigershifter back, just as Varg had done with him earlier. “I believe that he is saying that he can trust us.”

“Yes, we trust you to bring this fur ball back to us, once you don’t need him anymore.”

“We’re always going to need him,” Toru spoke his mind without giving it a second thought.

Willow’s clever eyes roamed over them. “You are welcome to come back with him. We have enough room for everyone, so you don’t have to worry about that. Especially since he and Varg seemed joined at the hip.”

Everyone laughed at that. Duril observed how Varg traded a soft look, full of unspoken words, with Claw. Yes, they must have all seen it by now, the way those two looked at each other, and his friends, who had known him for so long, couldn’t miss it.

“We only ask that when you do bring him back, he’s not patched up too badly,” Beast chimed in. “He pretends he’s a tough one, but he complains and moans just to be babied.”

“He does?” Toru didn’t hide his wonder at that.

Beast grinned. “Yeah, but he hasn’t shown you that face yet, has he? That’s like him, first get under your skin, and only after that, show you what he’s truly made of.”

“I don’t believe that,” Toru said in an outraged tone. “Claw is strong and he never cries.”

Duril wrapped his arm around his friend. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I think Beast and Willow are just trying to tease us a little.”

“They are?” Toru didn’t seem ready to accept it.

Willow walked over to him and surprised him by kissing him on both cheeks. “A little. Take good care of our friend, Toru. I will never forgive you if you don’t.”

Toru puffed out his chest. “Leave it to me. He’ll get back to you fatter than he left.”

That was as good a promise as any. Duril was willing to bet that Willow took it at its true value, as well.

TBC

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