(THOB) Chapter 123: Nurnal Isht Afik (Patreon)

“Does he win?”

“The prophecy does not say.” Helva shrugged. “Now, where did you hear this?”

“In battle,” Ezril said. “I heard a man say it while two men fought.”

The old lady regarded him, skeptical, and he fought not to squirm beneath her gaze. “Fine,” she scoffed, “keep your secrets then. And just when I thought you’ve grown since you came to us. You may have lost the arrogance and the uncertainty of self, but you still hold on to your secrets. Go on, now.” She shooed him away. “Your brothers are waiting.”

Ezril was already on his feet and half way to the exit before he turned back. “Thank you for everything.” He bowed, unable to remember when he had ever meant anything as much as he did these words. “And for Lenaria.”

Helva waved him away. “Leave priest. Before the village decides to run amuck over your wolf.”

Ezril remained where he stood, a question escaping his lips. “Why are they so wary of it.” For he had not sensed fear from them.

“You remember I said your father saved us once?” she asked, and he nodded. “It was from an Atle wolf.”

“He killed an Atle wolf?”

Helva nodded. “It was the only way. Those creatures are unlike others in the fact that they are intelligent beings. It was why my men tried to suppress your brothers without death. We killed the master of an Atle wolf once and it hunted us from the shadow for month, killing our men whenever it could. We did not want another such case on our hands.”

“I see.”

“If I may ask,” Helva slowed his resumed exit. “Which of your brothers is master of it?”

Ezril held back a grin as he turned to her.

“Me.”

He found Salem standing not too far from the tent, a frown still chewing at his lips.

“Ezril Vi Antari ,” his brother addressed him when he was within earshot, his voice like steel. “You made me a promise, and I intend to have you keep it.” He stepped closer so he was standing toe to toe with him. “You have yet to give me a purpose, brother, and yet to send me beyond the threshold. I will have you give me one of the two,” he finished and turned to go. “I will have you keep your promise. To me, and to Divine.”

When they returned into the bulk of the settlement the adults bid him farewell, each having a piece of advice to offer, ranging from how he could count on them should he need their help to playful banter on how he should put in a good word for them to his god when he returned to his temple. All the while they addressed him by the title they’d given him, and he realized, that throughout his stay, save Helva, no one had addressed him by name.

Do they even know it? he wondered.

“… Do not do that.”

Ezril turned, thinking Salem had addressed him, only to find Olufemi looking at a young boy. It was the boy who’d been watching Shade where it lay. He was unhidden now, studying the animal in plain sight, seeming undaunted.

“Why?” the boy asked, looking to Olufemi and away from Shade.

“Because he doesn’t like it,” Olufemi answered. “And you do not want to do something he doesn’t like.”

Shade rose as Ezril passed them. And accompanied by Olufemi, it followed him. They drew nearer his tent now, where the rest of his brothers stood, awaiting his arrival. Salem seeming to lead them. Darvi’s scowl had worsened since he’d left him, and Ezril wondered at what could’ve happened in the time that he was gone.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Darvi told him when he reached them, confusing him even more.

“I’m ready.”

Ezril frowned at the sound of the voice as the words escaped his tent. Everything, for the second time in one morning, had gone to shit.

Lenaria stepped out, clad in the garment of a priestess going to battle. Her swords strapped crisscrossed behind her, secured in their scabbards. She afforded him a look with a frown of her own.

“Stupidity, Ezril,” she said, “is thinking you could leave without me.”

A while later they walked the mist, all six children of Truth, with Shade ahead as if it led them. And Ezril had a feeling it did. There had been no ceremonious farewells at the final moment. No gathering of the settlers at the entrance were the mist thinned to see them of. Aldorna had followed them to the entrance and had pointed an angry finger, and they’d left.

Ezril was fairly certain the man had followed only to ensure they left.

They walked the mist in silence for a while and Ezril was wondering how deep it went when Takan spoke for the first time.

“I reckon we’d all like to know what our brother was doing there?”

No one answered him, deeming the return of the silence a better option than that, and Ezril was thankful for it.

“How about the nonsense they all kept calling him?” he tried again.

“Nurnal isht Afik,” Salem said.

“Yes.” Takan snapped his finger as if he had known it but simply required a reminder. “That nonsense. Who has any idea what it means?”

Salem opened his mouth in response, but it was Olufemi who spoke, his voice bitter, and his tone, baleful.

“The Hallow of Blood.”

It wasn’t until the mist thinned before them that anyone spoke again. And when the voice spoke, it was no surprise that it was Takan.

“From here,” he began with relief, “we return to the seminary, register in the cathedral, and can be free of this war.”

Ezril shook his head solemnly. “That will not be happening.”

Takan turned to him, flabbergasted. But it was Darvi who spoke, making no effort to hide his own surprise. “And why is that?”

“Because if what I have seen is true, and the soldiers have seen it too, and my knowledge does not mistake me, then we will return to the seminary, register our names at the cathedral, and every able priest will pick up their Sunder and march to war, because this is not a fight the realm can handle alone. And this is now as much the seminary’s fight as it is the realm’s.”

“And why is that?” This time it was Salem who spoke.

Ezril saw Lenaria’s jaw twitch as he turned to his brother but she remained silent as she had the entire journey, leaving only him to speak. And when he spoke, it was with a foreboding.

“Because, brother, the Broken have come to our doorstep.”