Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 21 (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 / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty 

Chapter Twenty-One – New Friends, New Plans

They could both sense the tension in the air coming from their unwilling hosts. Varg stood to his feet and made a small gesture with his chin for Claw to follow his example. “We are thankful for the food,” he said and brought his hands together in a gesture of gratitude. “But we must find a way to get inside the city and help our friends, and dallying here is of no use to us.”

Rosalind was the first to get up. A mixture of emotions played across on her face. She appeared regretful, yet furious. “Why are all of you people like this?” she asked accusingly, looking around at her fellow tribesmen. “Who would have thought that, in our lifetime, we’d get the chance to see the miracle happen? And is this how we welcome those closest to the fire?” She gestured pointedly at Varg and Claw.

“You’re young, and you don’t know anything,” one of the elders, the same who had spoken before, intervened. “Nothing and no one gave you the right to judge us. And what do you think will happen to the rest of us, once the tiger burns down Scercendusa? We’ll become nothing but ash, dragged by the winds to the sea and the mountains, and who knows where else.”

“So let us become that,” Rosalind said passionately while clasping her hands together. “Anything is better than the life we are burdened with right now. There is nothing for us here, day after day. We just trudge and toil, drawing ever closer to our deaths.”

“It is still living,” the elder contradicted her, raising his voice. “You’re too green to understand.”

“Green. We don’t even know what that color looks like,” Rosalind spat, filled with fury.

Varg considered it an opportune moment to intervene. “Do not fight your kind for us, Rosalind. We’re only here in passing. And most of you don’t even think that our Toru is the same tiger you’ve been waiting for here, at the gates of Scercendusa for these many years. We apologize because we don’t appear capable of putting your hearts at ease. We don’t know, either, if Toru is like the ones that appear in your old history or not.”

“He must be,” Rosalind replied, and her face seemed darker, if that was possible underneath all that soot. “He’s a tiger, and he came to Scercendusa.”

“But not alone,” the elder reminded her. “He came with the likes of them,” he gestured at Varg and Claw, “and even with an orc!”

“Duril is only half-orc,” Varg argued, “and I’d say that his humanity is much greater than I’ve seen in full humans.”

“We don’t care about such things,” the elder said, barely paying Varg any attention, as if he couldn’t even stand the sight of him.

“With all due respect, if that’s the case, then we will be on our way. We need to gain entrance to the city, and that will not happen if we sit here talking to you endlessly about things we disagree on.”

Varg could tell from the corner of one eye that Claw was staring at him with unhidden admiration. He had been told plenty of times before that he had a way with words, and he didn’t mind the compliments. After all, that particular ability had helped him on more than one occasion. And now, it was one of those times when quickness of tongue proved more useful than the edge of a blade and the courage to wield it.

Claw linked one hand with his and nodded as a sign that their time there should be cut short. Varg turned on his heel. “For all that it’s worth, it was nice meeting you, Rosalind. And the rest of you,” he threw over his shoulder, “no matter what you may think of us.”

Claw walked by his side as they hurried toward the edge of The Dregs. The air there was so heavy with ash that it made even their hardy chests fill with much more difficulty than usual. It had to be true that the ones who lived there their entire lives couldn’t breathe out in the open.

“That was quite the speech you gave, puppy,” Claw commended him as soon as they were out of earshot, and none of the people of The Dregs could overhear them.

“It was the only thing I could do to achieve an even break from them. They are set in their ways, and I don’t blame them. There’s a lot of history buried in these places.”

“Apparently, not deeply enough. Should we believe that this is the house of the evil Toru has been hunting ever since he met you?” Claw’s question had been on Varg’s mind since he had heard the stories told by Rosalind.

“It is one possibility. And if it is, it means that we must be close to the last leg of our journey, and that, of course, Toru needs us more than ever.”

“We surely haven’t traveled all this way to let kitty have all the fun by defeating that evil single-handedly, right?” Claw joked good-naturedly.

Varg nodded. They had been walking fast and now they were almost out of The Dregs. The air was starting to clear, and there were no more miners around them. He filled his chest with the better air and let his breathing normalize. “That’s right, and you know it, flea bag. But we must figure out a way to get into Scercendusa, right? It doesn’t look like going through The Dregs will be an option for us.”

“I gathered that much,” Claw agreed. “Not only do the people around here not hold us close to their hearts, but this air is killing our lungs.”

“I thought so, too,” Varg agreed. “So, there may be some truth in the tale that they cannot breathe normal air, right?”

Claw’s nod was accompanied by a grim frown. “This story proves to be a lot more complicated than we first thought, doesn’t it? I’ve been with you only for a portion of the road, but still, I should have expected somehow for things to become complicated like this.”

“No point in beating yourself up over it. We’re lost at sea, as a figure of speech would describe our current situation. But if it is here that Toru will find his final battle against the evil that has infiltrated our world with the sole purpose of destroying it, so be it. Our goal remains the same. We must enter Scercendusa and find Duril and Toru.”

“We don’t even know if Toru got inside, but at least we know that our healer friend is in there,” Claw commented. “Nonetheless, I’m with you, puppy.” The bearshifter tilted his head back and looked at the azure sky above. “It’s so difficult to fathom that only moments ago, we looked at this sky and saw it grey and unyielding.”

Varg half-turned to give the smoky haze covering The Dregs another look. “Yes, it is a different world in there. It may be hard to believe, but that’s how things stand.”

“To think that there are people living like that, trapped.”

“It was like this for a while for you, wasn’t it?” Varg said, watching Claw’s face. He could read there all the things the bearshifter wasn’t saying out loud.

Claw nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly, “but I never lost hope, even as I moved along those endless corridors with no way out in sight. I knew that someday, I would see the light and the sky again. These people have no hope; they have lost it. They just exist.”

Varg patted his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s not dwell on the things we cannot change. It is not up to us to bring an end to their misery, and we don’t even know if our good intentions wouldn’t fall flat on their faces. If there is something we can do for them, we won’t hesitate. That’s the promise I’m making to you right now.”

“I’ll keep you to that.” Indeed, under that rough exterior, beat a heart of gold, and Varg understood well what Claw was thinking about. He pitied those people at The Dregs and hoped that there was something that could be done for them. Varg never threw words into the wind; his promise was as real as the love he carried in his heart for all his friends.

“Now, we need to focus on how to enter the city. Let’s try the other gates. We wouldn’t want the guards to become suspicious of us if they see us for a second time.”

“There’s a lot of people pouring through those gates day after day,” Claw thought out loud.

“Yes, but I have a feeling that we aren’t the kind that’s easy to forget.”

“That much is true,” Claw admitted. “Do you have a plan, puppy?”

“Not as of this moment. I need to think, but while I do that, it would be a good idea to take our place among those that are waiting to get inside the city.”

“It’s a plan as good as any, but it might have us wait a bit too long, don’t you think? In the meantime, who knows how many things could happen?”

“I completely agree with you, Claw, but what else can we do at the moment? We need to put these melons,” he gestured toward his head, “to good use.”

“I have an idea,” Claw announced. “It might not work, but it’s worth a try. Now, tell me, when all these strangers are looking at us, what do you think they see?”

“Two very hairy men?” Varg asked with a broad smile.

Claw flexed his right arm. “They see brawn, puppy. And brawn can be used for many things, some more unsavory than others. What do you say we begin offering our services to the highest bidder? The queue is rather long, and I bet that some people are getting rather bored while waiting.”

“What do you have in mind?” Varg asked.

Claw grinned and then winked at him. “I believe it would be a good idea to offer these bored people some well-deserved entertainment.”

***

“I need to go back to Master Granius’ house,” Duril said as he got up from the table. He wasn’t very keen on returning to those stacks of papers, but it was the closest thing he had in terms of shelter and a job that was supposed to guarantee some sort of livelihood, too.

“I will take you there,” Pie assured him. “And don’t worry about those documents. They’re as good as done.”

“How? I barely put pen on paper, and I’m not a very fast scribe,” Duril explained. “Ah, is it your skill that’s going to be at work now?”

“No, not quite,” Pie said, but then he grabbed Duril’s hand and blew air over his fingers. “Now, you can even doze off, and those piles and piles of papers will tally up themselves.”

“And you still won’t call it magic,” Duril pointed out. “I’m happy that I’ve gotten to know you, but how am I going to help Toru?”

“The scent is very strong,” Pie explained. “By now, he must have gotten to the source.”

“What is the source?” Duril asked. “Is it this vase?” He pointed at the beautiful flowers trembling inside their container of water, although the air in the room was perfectly still.

“No, no, those are just flowers in a vase,” Moth intervened. “Our brethren wait for Toru. They pluck the flowers and throw them into the big fire, so that’s where he’s going to go.”

“He wasn’t allowed into the city. How do you think he’ll be able to get inside?” Duril questioned.

“It’s not very hard, but it’s not easy, either. Toru must be the one, and if he’s the one, he’s going to find the source,” Pie added with plenty of conviction. “What will happen then is up to him, but our kind will gain entrance into the city for him.”

“Then do you know how I can reunite with him? Can you point me to where I must go?”

Pie and Moth traded a glance. “The place is secret. We cannot do that.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Duril asked, a bit surprised.

“It’s not like that. We could be followed, and then, our kind could be destroyed for good. The tiger can see about the quest himself, but… forgive us for wanting to survive.”

“That’s understandable,” Duril said quickly. “When I was with you earlier, Pie, those guards, they were searching for you, weren’t they?”

Pie nodded. “They are always out hunting us. But we will try to find a way so that you can reach Toru. And we would like to see him, too.” His face lit up with tenderness as he said those words. Duril understood him completely. These people didn’t even know Toru, and they already loved him.

There was another reason why he wanted them all to meet Toru. They were speaking of a bloody history during which Toru’s ancestors had burned the same place to the ground over and over. Duril knew very well that Toru would never agree to that sort of sacrifice, and for him to find a way to vanquish the evil that wanted to take over the world, all the help in the world was needed. Duril liked to believe that he would be a part of that, as well, and he didn’t doubt, for one moment, that Pie and Moth felt the same, whether they spoke for all Sakka or not.

“How do the guards know about you? Or is it because you steal apples that they want to catch you?” he asked.

Pie made a very guilty face. “I don’t only steal apples,” he blurted out. Then, he seemed to remember something. “The guards hunt us because Ewart Kona is a very sly, very dangerous man. He isn’t supposed to know about us. But domestikos after domestikos, they have gotten closer and closer to the truth. And rumor has it,” Pie dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “that the domestikoi of Scercendusa began to take a vow, many centuries ago, that their city would not fail as its predecessors have. That they would be the force that would stop the tiger from destroying it.”

Duril felt a short unpleasant chill travel down his spine at those words. “Toru thought the domestikos would answer the questions he needs to find answers for. Now, it seems as if he is walking straight into a trap. I need to warn him.”

“Don’t worry, he will be warned,” Pie assured him. “His only way to get into the city is with the help of Sakka, and that means that he will know the truth about the domestikos before he sets foot in Scercendusa.”

Duril hesitated for a bit before asking his next question. “Toru is amazing,” he said slowly. “I’ve never met someone as brave as he is. But he is just one. How is he supposed to take on the entire city? It seems enormous, and all I’ve seen of it is just a small part. Does he only need to kill the domestikos?” His last words were filled with anxiety; according to what he knew, the domestikos was an old man, even if he was one who still sat upright in the saddle. Toru wouldn’t kill someone like that.

“Killing the domestikos is not that important,” Pie said. “I mean, he is a bad man, and the world would be better if Toru got rid of Ewart Kona, but Toru needs him so that he can learn where the evil lies. That’s his purpose, not dealing with a mere mortal like the domestikos.”

“Why is the domestikos hiding the evil? Is that what he does?” Duril asked.

“You could say that,” Pie replied. “It is the guarantee of his power on this earth. We do not know what the evil promised him and those before him. We do not know if it speaks to the domestikos. Ewart Kona keeps an open house, but a closed heart. And there are places, deep inside his palace, where no one is allowed to go but him.”

Duril pondered for a bit. “We’ve always called it the evil, because we don’t know if it has a name. But you know of it and have known for a very long time. Is there a name associated with it?”

Pie looked at Moth, and Moth looked at Pie. “If we tell you its name,” Moth began, “then you will be bound by fate to face it. That is why we don’t speak its name in front of others.”

“I think I’m beyond that,” Duril said simply. “I’ve gone against it before while by Toru’s side.”

Moth still seemed to waver, uncertain if he should say aloud the name of the entity that had, so far, dragged them across the world. Eventually, he leaned closer and gestured for Duril to bend low enough so that they were at the same level. “Hekastfet,” Moth whispered so quietly that Duril almost thought he missed it.

He nodded solemnly. “Do you believe Toru will know its name, as well?”

“He doesn’t need to as long as he vanquishes it, but if he asks, Sakka that are taking care of him will surely tell him.”

Duril repeated the abhorred name in his mind a few times.

“Don’t ever speak its name,” Pie warned him. “Everyone who hears it will share the same fate. And not everyone is destined to survive meeting it face to face.”

“Toru, like his ancestors, is destined to destroy it,” Duril pointed out.

“Yes, yes, he is,” Pie agreed. “And you must be, as well, since you’ve survived this far. But do not let others share your fate, as there’s no guarantee that they are meant to live another day after facing the darkest evil of all time.”

Duril thought of Varg and Claw. They had to be just like him, destined to survive, but he understood the warning in what Pie and Moth told him. Far from him to get anyone else involved, as the impending doom announced by Sakka and their ancient history was enough to send icy chills down his back.

“What are we going to do next?” he asked. He had announced his desire to go back to Master Granius’ house, but that wasn’t his destiny. Only that, right now, he didn’t know what his destiny had in store for him.

“We’ll meet you tomorrow at lunch hour, when your master is, once more, filling his belly with the best food in Scercendusa.”

“He doesn’t seem to be a noble. Does he truly get to eat the best food in Scercendusa?” Duril expressed his wonder out loud.

“There are many things in Scercendusa that are not quite as they seem,” Pie said in a secretive voice.

“Do you mean Master Granius is a noble, after all?” Duril asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Pie said and waved dismissively. “But there are places where greed is rewarded, and that’s what your master plays at.”

“In other words,” Moth intervened, “every day, he goes to a different place where they serve food and offers his challenge. If he eats more than all the patrons being served at that hour, he doesn’t have to pay a dime.”

“And do many owners of such places accept this challenge?”

“More than you would think.” Pie hooked his thumbs under the straps of his overalls. “Apparently, it attracts more customers to have an eat-it-all like that capable of gobbling down all sorts of foods without regurgitating a single bite.”

Duril couldn’t suppress a disgusted expression. “I don’t know what to think about such behavior.”

“Think nothing of it. It’s what will help you ditch your work around noon every day so that we can plan on helping our tiger succeed,” Pie said. “Your master spends hours at lunch, and not always in a single place.”

“He doesn’t get sick at all?” Duril asked, still finding it difficult to wrap his head around something like that. “It seems like a bad habit that will get the best of him some day.”

“That’s for Master Granius to worry about, don’t you think? And try as you might, you wouldn’t be able to convince him to give up his habits. Like many people here, he has only one mistress, and that’s greed.”

“Not everyone in Scercendusa is like that,” Duril protested, although he couldn’t say that he knew anyone in Scercendusa whatsoever. Still, he didn’t believe it possible for the city to contain only people like Granius. Such a thing seemed unfathomable, or maybe he didn’t know a lot about the world and cities that seem to stretch their towers as high as the sky.

“That may be so, that may be so,” Pie chanted and grabbed his arm. “Now let’s take you back so that you can work on your chores.”

Duril didn’t have time to say goodbye to Moth before the small kitchen disappeared and the next thing he knew, he found himself inside the stuffy room, at the desk, with piles of papers in front of him. He blinked a few times in disbelief and looked around for any sign of Pie, only to be met by nothing but silence.

It wasn’t possible that he had fallen asleep and imagined the whole thing, was it? He touched one of the piles and gasped in surprise. The papers arranged themselves neatly in front of him, seemingly of their own volition, and his hand, guided by an invisible force, danced over the tome, writing effortlessly, in small, neat letters, everything they contained.

***

The story danced as if on a carousel, displaying pictures in front of him, stills from different lives, and Toru lay there, completely mesmerized. He didn’t feel the water, as a warm weight that wasn’t holding him down, but was only cradling him gently, helping him relax. He watched a tiger sitting on top of a black fortress in fascination, and as each moment passed, the tiger grew bigger, and the black fortress crumbled under his majestic paws, while the expression in his eyes remained unmoved. It was a big tiger, too, the biggest he had ever seen in his life, and he felt breathless.

Another picture followed and this one presented a tiger with his maw open wide, spitting fire from the depths of his throat. An old city with tall towers beautifully decorated with intricate stone lace was melting under that breath of fire, turned into nothing but a molten mass that would never be mistaken for the beautiful construction that had soared into the air only moments before.

The picture changed again, and this time, Toru started at the sight. The tiger in it was walking down a long corridor, and on all sides, blood was pouring down the walls. On taking a closer look, Toru realized that the tiger was walking over bones and skulls, crushing them under his paws, while his eyes burned red, filled with bloodlust.

With a gasp, Toru forced himself back to the surface. “I saw things,” he told Midnight.

The Sakka just nodded solemnly. “During preparation, it is possible to see the deeds of your ancestors.”

“But,” Toru said and looked at his own hands emerging from under the water, now gleaming gold, “there was so much death and destruction.”

“That is your fate,” Midnight said. “Hekastfet cannot be eliminated otherwise.”

“Hekastfet?”

“I keep forgetting that you didn’t receive the same education as the other tigers before you,” Midnight said apologetically. “It is the name of the entity you must vanquish. It lives in the heart of Scercendusa now, plaguing the mind and dreams of the domestikos.”

“Is Ewart Kona nothing but its victim, then?” Toru asked, feeling pity for the old domestikos.

“Do not make the mistake of having mercy on him. He is a tool, a powerful one, but he has molded himself willingly into the most useful tool he can be. Ewart Kona comes from a long line of domestikoi, and he believes his destiny is to keep the tiger away from Scercendusa by any means necessary.”

“I don’t understand most of what you’re saying,” Toru mumbled, feeling inadequate to fulfill his so-called destiny. Would he be able to walk on dead people like that, spit fire to melt towers, and crush an entire world under his paws?

Midnight caressed his hair and continued to wash it with vigor. “You followed the scent here. We do not doubt you are the one. Even if you didn’t receive the same education as the others before you, it must be in your blood. When you meet Hekastfet, you will know what to do.”

“Destroy it? And bring down Scercendusa, just like that? Just like the others did… before me?”

Midnight sighed. “You are different, and that is the truth, Toru. You are kind, and you didn’t let me go blind by looking into the fire--”

“You would have gone blind?” Toru exclaimed. “I thought… I don’t think I like Beanstalk very much now.”

“Even if Beanstalk had taken pity on me, I wouldn’t have had the courage to abandon the sacred fire once it claimed me,” Midnight said. “And he would have tried to stop me. Only by then it would have been too late.”

Toru didn’t pretend he understood why Sakka were so intense in their convictions. Everything was new to him, and now he was all the more grateful that he had had the idea of saving Midnight from such a horrible fate. “Is Beanstalk always so hard on the rest of you?”

“Only once a century,” Midnight explained. “He is the kindest master we’ve ever had. Master is not even the correct word to use to describe him. He just cares about the quest more than everyone else. And he’s right.”

“Wait, do you mean that there were other masters before Beanstalk?”

“A few. Some got caught. Beanstalk risks the most, by going in and out.”

“What do you mean, caught? By whom?”

“By the guards. The domestikos has never been keen on our kind. We’re hard to destroy, but there are ways.” Midnight fell silent, under the weight of that knowledge. Toru felt guilty for taking so long to get there. “But let’s not talk about all that. I believe you are ready. Under the light of the moon, and the kiss of the sun, only the true believers will see you.”

Toru got out of the bath and realized that he didn’t need a towel. His entire skin was covered with a thin layer of gold and he moved through the air, feeling no breeze, no discomfort or cold of any kind. “What do I have to do next?” he asked.

Midnight took his hand. “Now, you are ready to climb. All those dark-hearted guards won’t see you. You must reach Ewart Kona’s palace. In there, you need to find the room where Hekastfet lies in wait.”

“And then I destroy it,” Toru said with determination.

“It’s going to put up a fight. And the fight will be long and arduous.”

“But I will destroy it,” Toru insisted. “I don’t have to destroy the city.”

“You will have to,” Midnight contradicted him. “Hekastfet will pour out and infiltrate through everywhere, and everyone you see will become an enemy.”

“Even you?”

“No, not us. We were chosen,” Midnight said. “Remember, Toru, no one in Scercendusa is your friend.”

“I have Duril there. He’s there, and he’s my friend. More than a friend.”

“Then, he’ll see you, and you’ll see him,” Midnight said. “If there’s no evil in his heart, none whatsoever, he’ll live.”

Toru wasn’t convinced he liked any of what he was hearing, but he trusted himself. If Duril was there, and he was, Toru wouldn’t destroy the city, not while it contained the one he loved the most hidden deep in its heart. Midnight could be wrong, and Toru knew he wasn’t anything like those tigers before him. For starters, he didn’t breathe fire, and he didn’t have paws as large as a castle, descending from the sky to crush everything into dust.

“I’m ready to climb,” he said.

Midnight hurried to the door and held it open for him. Toru walked through it and found himself face to face with all the Sakka. They appeared to be waiting for him, now that they no longer had to feed the fire and create the scent that had brought him here. A soft gasp of awe moved through them, and Beanstalk walked in front of them. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked Toru up and down. “A glorious sight for our tired eyes, young tiger, that’s what you are. Let us help you get to the surface.” Beanstalk gestured for him to follow, and he did.

The others followed at a distance, and Toru could hear that they were commenting on his looks. Of course, he couldn’t understand a single word, but that didn’t keep him from getting what they meant in a way that he couldn’t explain.

Soon enough, they stopped in front of what looked like a tall chimney. Inside it, Toru observed steps carved in the stone. “Through here,” Beanstalk said. “You are saving us. We won’t see you again, so just let me… us,” he added, choking back tears, “give you a hug.”

Toru wasn’t expecting such an outpouring of emotion from Beanstalk, but accepted the hug without another word. The rest of them followed, their thin arms clasping him briefly.

“Why do you say that you won’t see me again?”

“Because the tiger always leaves after,” Beanstalk explained. “Our role here is done.”

Toru moved into the chimney and put one hand and one foot on the steps carved in the wall. “You’re wrong about one thing, Beanstalk. I don’t know about your role and whatnot, but when I make friends, I make a promise that I’ll come back to see them again, even if it takes me a lifetime.”

Beanstalk let out a small, surprised sound. “Are we your friends?”

Toru smiled as he took the first step and hooked his hand on a different step. “Of course you are. No one before has ever given me a nicer bath.”

He started climbing without another look back.

TBC

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