Mercenary War - Book 2

Chapter 12

         Then he saw it. A metal pole that formed the structural frame of the stone wall was bent outward from the wall. Reaching out he grasped it tightly. The jolt made his arm feel as though it had been ripped from his shoulder. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. The metal bent lower until it hung four meters from the grass. Fallon dropped, his knees slamming into his ribs as he collapsed on the ground below. Gasping painfully, his lungs burned, his ears rang, and his chest heaved. It felt as if every bone in his upper body had simultaneously snapped. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled away from the fortress.

         Kole, brought about by the sound of multiple small explosions, came up beside him. The other half-breed hurried to put Fallon’s arm around his shoulders and pulled the king along with him.
         In the cover of the trees, Kole helped Fallon down to sit on a mossy boulder. “Ventris is not with you?"
         The older man’s orange eyes focused on him. The once bright color seemed clouded and shaded. “What do you mean with me? He was with you!” His voice rose to a near yell.

         “No. No!” the former mercenary screamed. “I’m going back for him! We still have time before the powder ignites!” He was shouting as he lurched forward into an unsteady run. Mercenaries rounded the structure in front of him. Then the stronghold blew apart. The sound and stone ricocheted off the trees, echoing over the open fields like thunder. The men disappeared in a ball of fire so hot that Fallon and Kole dove backwards, putting their faces to the ground to avoid being burned. The intense heat caused both to drip with sweat beneath their tunics, the liquid trickling down their backs and faces in seconds. It seemed like an eternity that the heat assaulted them. Hunkered down like animals in hiding, the men waited for the wave to pass. When it finally did, metal bars lay melted, stone was crumbled and shattered like glass. Ash lay where wood had fallen. Bodies lay incinerated all over. Fallon was the first to look back at the destruction. Regret hit him like a fist to the gut. He gasped and choked on the smoke filled air as he screamed out the elf’s name. “Ventris!” The futility of his cry was crippling. He stayed there, on his knees, staring at the carnage. Kole crawled over to him, his arms bleeding where bits of stone had cut his tunic like razors as they flew past.

         The young man’s eyes focused on the smoking rubble, seeing flames dance amidst the debris. He watched a tear slide down Fallon’s bloodied cheek and whispered something inaudible to himself. Then he cursed aloud before taking his companion’s arm and pulling him to his feet. The man teetered as Kole held him, the use of his gift having sapped most of what strength he had left. Slowly, he began to walk, slowly, one step at a time, toward the shallow crater that cradled the over abundance of debris from stone, metal, and bodies. As they neared, they saw melted weapons contrasted with the intact weapons that had been imbued with elven magic. Whether the weapons survived because of that magic or a more robust metal or forging process did not matter. Ventris’ blades could be recovered and delivered to the woman who waited back home. The king moved closer, passing some of the fortress that had been scattered in the blast.

         In a sorrowful rage, Fallon planted his sword into the rubble of the fortress. Kole stood behind him, his face hard. Disgust filled him as he stared at the bodies mixed in with the stone and dust. There were melted metal shards stuck in charred corpses and limbs strewn all throughout the wreckage. Fallon’s orange eyes dropped to the ground and he cried out in agony. His lone guard stood as a stone, allowing his king to work through the months of what they had done and accomplished. Blood streaked the monarch’s face and clothing, covering his hands and boots. The last two of Fallon’s men aside from Kole fell here; one by Anohean and one by the explosion that the former mercenary had timed just a little too early. He and Kole had escaped, but Ventris had already been wounded. If he had just cared more for his men than for revenge, maybe at least one more could’ve been saved. He held nothing but disdain for himself and who he had allowed himself to become once more.
         The man sat in the ruins for what felt like an eternity, his lone guard like a silent shadow, patiently watching over him. It was over. Everything was over. Who was he now? Who was he now that everything he knew was gone? Questions flooded his mind. Questions without answers and questions with answers he wished weren’t so. Thirty minutes had passed since the fortress fell.

         Fallon knew it was unfair to ask, but he could not do otherwise. “Kole, please go find Ventris’ swords. If you cannot find both, then find one and bring it to me.”
         Kole did a half bow and retreated with a stern, “Yes, sir.”

         When he was out of sight, the king turned and looked out over the landscape to the northeast. Smoke rose from the grass where small fires had been started after the blast. The air was silent and smelled of putrid smoke. “I did this,” he whispered. He repeated it louder. “I did this. I did all of it.”
         It took Kole some time to find the dual blades that Ventris had used. They were under large pieces of debris about three meters from what he assumed was the elf’s broken and burned body. He could not bring himself to look at the body. Instead, he quickly shut his eyes as he pulled the swords from the rock and spun around to avoid the sight. The man returned to Fallon and handed them to him. He was ignored. After holding them out for a moment, he let them drop to his side, carefully studying the king beside him. It was silent for a few more minutes.
         “Kole, this was my fault. I killed my own men.” Fallon was different; the bloodlust had vanished. “I cannot return with you. Please give the blades to Ventris’ betrothed. Tell her he fought valiantly and there was no better man to stand by a king.”

         Kole had also changed significantly while traveling with Fallon. The man was no longer the soft, laid back young man he was when this began. He had aged and matured through this journey. There was no going back to what his life had been prior. He had realized quite early on that his king fought and killed mechanically, out of instinct rather than actual rage. His lethal and torturous habits were built off of years of training and manipulation. The man under all of that was much, much different. “Fallon, I will not return without you. What is a city without a king?”
         Fallon spit into the charred ground near where he stood. “I am not a king. I am a mercenary, Kole. A cold-blooded killer.”

         Kole had spent enough time speaking frankly and confidently to his king that he did not hesitate even now. “How can you be? You’ve destroyed the very foundation of the mercenaries. If you truly believe you are not a king, then do not return, but do not expect to send me away. I told you that I would follow you to the grave and yet I am the only one still living with you.”
         “The foundation of the mercenaries lives on in me. I could not escape it.”

         Beside Fallon, Kole lowered himself to one knee. “Forgive me my disagreement, my lord, but are you happy with yourself? Is the satisfaction you sought so persistently here now? Do you feel more complete?”
         Turning, the older man looked at his guard, the half-breed stared him in the eyes almost challengingly. All regrets he had harbored concerning bringing Kole with him began to vanish. “No, Kole. I do not.”
         “Then what do you want? What do you really want?”

         The king's orange eyes stared back at him in the reflection and something in the sincerity of Kole's voice and words moved Fallon to look out again toward the northeast. Toward home. Minutes passed silently. Suddenly, the sound of a single bird could be heard in a tree nearby, one solitary sound of life. “Find me a horse.” He gave a mocking, yet sad smile to the younger man and turned to look back over the destroyed fortress. Kole hesitated a moment before going to find a horse. He watched his king closely. Fallon limped into the rubble to where he had buried his sword in the dirt. He removed his bow and quiver and his cloak, dropping them into the ash along with it.

         The men came to a small village days later. Kole had been unable to catch any of the horses that had escaped from Harta before the explosion so the two had walked with no food or water to the closest village they could find. The destruction of the fortress was so complete that none of the storage rooms had survived. Kole dropped money on the counter in front of the innkeeper and requested a room and water. The man dared not decline and let them have a room for as long as they needed. They slept the night and in the morning they ate and then found a shop to replace their tattered and blood stained clothing. Fallon still walked with a limp and winced when he breathed.
         Kole purchased his solid gray cloak with a light gray tunic, brown breeches and darker brown boots. Fallon stood for a long time, staring at the clothing. He had chosen colors once before when he and Calya were just outside of Ynhilay. Aside from then, he had simply worn what was expected of him as king. But as Kole said, maybe it really was time that the king of Kezna made a change. Reaching out slowly, he touched the sleeve of a deep blue tunic with silver embroidery. He took it along with black breeches and a darker blue cloak. Fallon chose a silver brooch that was fashioned into a great phoenix. Turning, he picked up a pair of black boots with a blue stripe around the tops and black and silver gauntlets. He purchased those along with a pair of shears and the men paid for horses and made camp outside the village.
         They stayed there longer than they would have liked. It had been nearly a week before they stocked up on provisions and packed up camp to leave. Fallon still limped a little, but his breathing was steady and his pain was minimal. They rode slowly and in silence for a long time, letting the breeze caress their faces and feeling the sun warm their skin. About midday, Kole looked over at Fallon from his saddle. “Fallon, what happened at the fortress? How did you escape?”

         Wide eyed, Kole stared. “Is that even possible?”

         Shrugging dejectedly, Fallon answered. “It must be, because it happened.”
         The hunter stayed quiet and thought things over. “Are you sure it was your blessing and not your elf side?”

         “What elf do you know that can explode stone, iron, and wood?” his lord asked seriously.
         With a nod, Kole chuckled. “Other than our explosives we created, what do you know at all that can do that?” He sat, riding leisurely along. “Was it your blessing combined with whatever elven magic you do possess?"

         After a moment, Fallon agreed that was probably the closest to accurate they could find. He grimaced as his horse startled at a rabbit running by, placing a hand on his side. Kole saw, but stayed silent. The king was still recovering from whatever he had done to himself during their campaign.
         Another day passed and the hunter finally decided that he could not deal with watching his monarch suffer. When they saw a town in the distance, he spoke. “Fallon, we are finding a healer for you.”

         Fallon tilted his head. “Are you serious? It is a little late for that. We should have ridden south to Tant for that. Elves have the best healers in the lands.”
         Kole swung his horse around to block the king. “Then we are going back. I am not allowing you to ride home in this condition. There is no way to know what damage has been done to you from the blessing. It has become your curse.”

         The lord growled. “I am fine to ride back to Kezna without a healer.”
         However, in the next moment, the half-breed hunter roped the other’s steed and forced it to follow him. Fallon glared at him. Kole stared at him in defiance. “Try me, Fallon. My job is now to protect you till my dying breath. I will do nothing else, whether you want me to or not.” Rolling his eyes, Fallon finally relented and allowed his soldier to turn them south.

         Since the king no longer needed to direct his horse over the landscape, he stopped paying so much attention. His mind was muddled and his body was stiff and in immense pain. He knew Kole was right to bring him to a healer, but knowing he was headed home and taking longer to get there was agonizing. Adding weeks or months to their trip was more disheartening than anything.

         The two week journey passed uneventful and calm. Fallon raised his eyes to the tall gates of Tant. His stomach churned and his chest tightened. What type of reception would he receive? Would they send word to Calya? Would she even want to hear that he was alive or successful? Would she want him back? Was she alive? She had to be. He would have heard otherwise. Wouldn’t he have? The guards looked down grimly. “State your purpose.”

         Fallon opened his mouth to answer but Kole was faster. “The king of Kezna requests an audience with your lord in secrecy. We would appreciate it if you would oblige him.”
         The soldiers looked uneasy, but one of them shouted down to what must have been a messenger for him to go bring lord Kikarii. They stood there for nearly thirty minutes before Kikarii arrived in a rush. He ordered the gates opened and stared when he saw the two bruised and scarred men before him. He could not even recognize them anymore. He leaned to look behind them for the rest of their group. They were alone. “My lord…” he said quietly, his voice fading before he could finish. Fallon met his stare with an intense gaze and the elven lord nodded. “Please, enter immediately. Show respect for the king of Kezna!” He shouted to his soldiers as they gasped and bowed their heads. When the gate was shut again, He looked at the man a second time, nearly speechless. He looked like a shell of a man, more haunted than he ever thought possible. There was no monster, no tormentor, no hardened killer. He finally saw him as a man broken down, worn out and barely hanging on. “How can I help?”

         Kole looked down at him, skepticism in even line of his hardened features. But Kikarii saw something else as well. Worry and desperation. “The king needs a healer. The best you have.”
         Nodding to a guard nearby, he ordered them to get a healer. Then Kikarii led them to a small house. It was familiar somehow. Fallon had never been there, but something made it seem like he had seen it before. Kikarii waited for the men to dismount and then held the door for them. “This was Habbi’s old residence. We keep it as an infirmary. While the main healing room is still functional, we have added more rooms and beds in the back. You both can stay up here, though. I will take my leave. The healer should be here within a few minutes.”

         The younger elf met his eyes and inclined his head. While he was not ready to bow to this lord, he was not intent on completely disrespecting him, either. “Thank you, my lord.”
         Kikarii simply nodded and left. A moment later a healer came in and requested that the king lay on the table on his back. He pulled his shirt off to reveal dark blue, green, and black splotches, along with what seemed like hundreds of scars. Fallon lay down and grimaced, clenching his jaw in distress. The smooth hands of the elven healer moved across his skin, causing goosebumps to appear and searing fire to shoot through every part of his upper body. He inhaled sharply and tightened his hands into fists. The elf turned to Kole and requested he leave the room before he turned back to his patient. After seeing the hunter’s hesitation, he gave a genuine, albeit weak smile to reassure him and continued with his task. “Your highness, while I can heal all of your internal injuries, they are many, and they are severe. It will take a significant amount of time. I do hope you can be patient with me so I may do the best I can.”

         Swallowing the lump in his throat, he silently nodded. He thought of his wife alone, without him all this time. A single mother to their child who did not even know him as his father. Would he even accept him as his father? Would the people even respect him as their king anymore? Had she moved on from him? He needed to stop thinking. He tried to open his eyes, but found he could not. Not that something was preventing him, but he just found that he was physically incapable of opening his eyes. Another moment passed and he felt a white hot pain cover his body. He cried out in panic and torment as it felt as though he was being burned alive. Then suddenly, all of it ceased, and he felt himself falling into a deep sleep. Not dreamless. No. It was the opposite. He dreamed vividly and deeply.

         In his coma, Fallon saw Calya. She was fighting for her life. And when she saw him, she glared his way with disgust, blaming him for her suffering, her loneliness, her misery. His child was old enough to walk and talk. But instead of running to him, he ran away and cried, yelling at him to go away and leave his mommy away. He groaned in despair as he watched the scenes of his deepest fears surface in his unconscious hellscape.
         Kole heard Fallon cry out and was instantly in the doorway. He grabbed the healer by the collar and stared him down. “What have you done to him?"

         With his hands up, the young man pleaded. “Please, sir, I just had to put him into a long-term sleep so I could ease the stress on his injuries. He is alright and feels nothing now that he is not awake. Unfortunately, the magic used for this can cause severe pain if the wounds themselves are life threatening. If you had not brought him here when you did, I am unsure of how long he would have lived.”
         Kole relaxed only slightly and lowered the healer to the ground again, glaring at him before looking at Fallon over. He did look as though he was resting peacefully now. He was worried and uncertain. Had he brought his lord into a den of lions? Or was it as it seemed? A city of angels? “Okay. But if he does not wake up, all alliances between Kezna and Tant are moot. You will be personally responsible.”

         With that, he walked out and slammed the front door of the house, leaving the physician shaken and on edge. He needed fresh air before he killed someone. From the corner of his eye, he saw a guard nod to him and then hurry away. He reminded himself he was in an ally city and his mission was complete. He could relax. He wandered around the front of the house restlessly before finally walking to Traff’s tavern. He pushed the door open and saw the redhead at the counter as usual, his signature towel over one shoulder as he refilled ale mugs and water glasses. With long purposeful strides, Kole walked up to the counter and took a seat.

         Traff gave him a sideways look before cheerfully coming over. He leaned his hip on the counter and smiled warmly. “What can I get for you newcomer?”

         “Give an ale please, Traff.” Kole’s blue eyes were dark and hard. The bartender hesitated a moment, and then filled him up a glass and handed it, lingering on that side of the bar. He watched as the large bearded man guzzled his entire glass, slammed it down harshly and asked for a refill. He did as asked and continued to stand there, observing. He almost jumped when the gruff man spoke again. “Traff, I need complete honesty. If Fallon was dying, would he be safe here to recover?”

         Traff cursed, jumped the counter and grabbed the hunter’s arm. Kole chugged the rest of his second ale before turning to follow the redhead. The bartender yelled over his shoulder. “Brinner, take over! I don’t know how long I'll be!” He pulled the half-breed away from the counter to a corner table. “I recognize you. You were here before. What happened to Fallon. Where is he?”

         The big man scoffed. “He is king to you.” The host held up his hands in concession. “Fallon is with the healer. He could die. I know you are like a brother to Kikarii. Will he keep my lord safe?”

         Traff cocked an eyebrow. “Kikarii is lord to you. And of course he would. He holds no grudge and will do everything in his power to assist him and make sure he can return to… uh… wherever.”

         Kole glared at him, but could not argue. His shoulders visibly relaxed and he drooped his head. “We succeeded, but at what cost?” He was delirious. The stress and strain of the past months was taking its toll.

         Cautiously, Traff spoke. “Where are the other men?”

         The reply was cold and flat. “Dead, Traff. All of them are dead. I am the only one who made it back with him. I’m Kole, in case you are curious.”

         The bartender’s brows furrowed. He glanced over at his nephew and wife before gazing around his tavern. The shock was crippling. “All of them are dead? And the mercenaries?”

         “Gone. Every last one of them. The fortress is gone, too. The hunters that were here with us, and the mercenaries. Fallon barely made it out alive.”

         Traff studied his face, the scars that cut through an eyebrow and a portion of his beard were disturbing. He remembered this man. Though it was awhile ago. He remembered him excited about food, joking with his companions, incredibly protective over his king, but laid back. What had happened to them since then? This man was nothing like the man who was in here months ago. But he was the same man. “Don’t try to pay for your drinks or any food while you and the lord are here. I will not allow it. You should sleep. When was the last time you slept at night?”

         Kole stared at him vacantly. “I do not remember. I have not slept a full night since we left Kezna.”

         Traff stood, walked briskly around the counter, whispered something to his wife and then handed him two keys. “If he doesn’t end up staying here, it is okay. Just keep the second key until you leave.”

         Kikarii paced in his study, pulling at his hair, grinding his teeth and cursing loudly. Ariah hurried into the room. “Is it true, Kik? Is Fallon here? Alive?”

         The elf lord turned, looking shaken. “Barely. I spent these years wishing I could kill him. And then I was hoping he would succeed and die in the process. But these months have made me realize that I am not all that different from him afterall. When he arrived, Ariah… I did not even recognize him. He is hardly a shell of a man. He reminds me of what I was when I left captivity. He did not speak to me. His guard did in his stead. But what is worse… There is only one man with him. I think he succeeded. And if he did, I think it is safe to assume his men had died in the process. I have the mercenary king in my hands. His life depends on me.” He curled his fingers into a tight fist and looked at his wife.

         She looked uneasy. Her husband was not usually distraught or unstable, but here, in this office, she was afraid he may do something that would ruin him and everything he had built. “So what will you do, Kik?” Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet. He could hear the nervousness in the way it quivered slightly.

         He dropped his hand and looked her in the eyes, a fire burned deep in his soul. “I will protect him and make sure he returns home where his wife and child still wait for him.” He watched as Ariah let out a tense breath, her body visibly losing tension. He smiled. “This is your fault, you know. You and Calya spent so much time convincing me Fallon and I are alike that I feel I would betray myself should I allow anything to happen to him. I cannot even tell you if I am upset by that or not. I guess time will tell.”

         It was late when a bang echoed through Kikarii’s hall. He hurried to the door, expecting to see Kole. Traff stood there, rigid, concern marking his handsome face. “Come in,” the lord said quickly.

         Traff nodded his thanks and hastened inside, turning as soon as the door shut. “What do you plan to do with the king of Kezna?”
         Chuckling uncomfortably, Kikarii lifted an eyebrow. “Good evening to you, too. What happened?”

         The redhead was not amused. “His hunter is crumbling. He is afraid you will take the king’s life. I assured him you would protect him, but I was just trying to help him calm down. I do not know what they went through out there, but Fallon and his guard are not okay.”

         Holding up his hands, the elf tried to placate his brother. “I will protect him at all costs. The healer was instructed to save him in any way possible, no matter the cost. I can assume Kole made sure he understood that in as little words as possible, if I know the type of men Fallon would bring with him.”

         The bartender sighed and slumped into a chair. They had walked all the way to the study without even realizing they had done so. “Why the change, Brother?”

         The lord looked at the ceiling, thinking of an answer. “Calya and my beloved wife helped me to see how similar I really am to Fallon. I denied it for so long, but then, seeing him in the state he arrived in was the last bit of convincing I needed. He lost all of his men, ended up on his deathbed, and came to me to save his life, knowing that I have spent years trying to think of a way to end it. He is no monster. I’ve come to realize he has always been a desperate man trying to survive. And I know what that’s like, Traff. So yes, I will protect this king with my life until he is healed.”

         Fallon’s nightmares came dark and constant, his tortured mind barely able to hang on throughout his treatment. He felt he would go inane. But he found there was no escape. No death to fall into. No reality to wake him. Just a never ending stream of horrific images of things past, possibilities that may be, regretted mistakes he could never make right. The healer heard him shrieking each night in the room. His mental torment was so severe, he had to be strapped to the table to keep him safe. A week and a half passed before the healer finished healing the lord’s organs. He could finally wake him up. He sent a messenger to alert Kole. He was not willing to risk the wrath of that man because he woke Fallon up without telling him. He began sweating at just the thought of it. Within minutes, the big man barrelled into the house and filled the doorway. He stared at Fallon, his chest tightening. He saw streaks from tears he cried in his sleep. The king was not even aware they had fallen. What was his king facing while unconscious? He nodded solemnly for the healer to continue and stood tense and uneasy in the corner of the room.

         The healer’s hands moved deftly over his chest and he closed his eyes. Fallon twitched and then pulled at the restraints as he began waking. Then suddenly, the man let out a heartwrenching shriek and writhed, his teeth clenched so tightly, Kole expected them to shatter at any moment. He glanced at the healer in horror, but the other man was calm and focused, placing a hand on Fallon’s forehead. With one last scream, the monarch relaxed on the table, his eyes shooting open.

         “Fallon!” Kole’s voice boomed.

         The king just lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily as if he had just fought an entire war on his own. His eyes looked haunted and his mouth moved without words. The healer placed his hands on Fallon’s cheeks and concentrated. Suddenly, the man found his voice. “Kole. Where am I? Why am I still alive?”

         His hunter’s heart shattered. What had he been dreaming this entire time? “Fallon, you are with a healer in Tant. Kikarii has had guards assigned to keep watch while you have been asleep for the last week and a half. He saved your life.” His voice almost broke. For all the time he spent idolizing his lord, he saw now that his time was wasted. Not that he would have chosen not to come with him. Yet, the broken tortured man before him was not what he craved. Somewhere deep inside, though, he knew that is exactly what he was. He just had not had the opportunity to come face to face with the consequences of his decisions as Fallon had. The only person waiting for him to return had died because of him. He had no one to ground him in reality like this man did.

         “Kikarii was protecting me? I find that impossible to believe.” His confusion was tangible as he lay there, his brows pulled together. “I really thought he would have killed me the moment he learned I was injured.”

         A voice startled all of them. The healer bowed his head and exited the small room. Kole and Fallon turned their heads and stared at Kikarii in uncomfortable silence. The elf waved his hand. “I did not even cross my mind, if you would believe that.” He moved to the bed and released the straps. Fallon pulled his arms free and pushed himself to a sitting position. He looked at the elf lord with cool doubt in his eyes. “If I may speak boldly, my lord.” Though he faced Fallon, and did not bow or even incline his head, the respect in his voice was recognizable. The king nodded for him to continue. “My grudge against you faded when our enemies became the same. I have seen your honor and the lengths you would go through to protect Calya, your son, and your kingdom. There is no one I know of who would go to such lengths to do what you have done. What’s more? You placed your life in the hands of a perceived enemy for the sake of that honor. What else could I do but repay honor with honor?” With an odd look at Kole, Kikarii left them both staring after him. A weight had lifted from his chest. It was a feeling of closure, taking the high road, or even letting go. It was the feeling of doing the right thing despite everything in him fighting against it. He knew he should have come to this place years ago. But Ariah’s description of him on the trek home had stuck deep in his core. As cruel as he felt she was, she had been correct. Every flaw she mentioned was his to own. And finally, he did up to own them all. He did not anticipate a friendship beginning, but an alliance with no resentment may be possible.

         Another month passed slowly. Fallon and Kole stayed in the Marsh Guard’s inn. The king healed slower than he would have hoped. While he despised being confined for so long to this city, he was able to learn a little of what his wife had faced in his absence. She had continued correspondence with Tant constant and ensured that they would be taken care of as far as resources and finances. And while Kikarii never asked for anything specific, he was always surprised to find merchants delivering supplies sent by the queen. Fallon’s heart ached for his wife. He began riding again for short distances, his sore muscles and joints protesting at every new motion. It took weeks for him to simply sit in the saddle and walk without doubling over in excruciating pain. Two months after they arrived, he was stronger, mostly healed, and eager to take his leave.

         Kikarii followed the two men to the gate, Traff beside him. “I have not alerted Calya to your presence here or sent her any update.”

         Fallon nodded. “Thank you.”
         The elven lord shook his head. “While I think she should have been alerted immediately, I understand that you have many things you need to sort out before you speak with her and it is not my place to tell her anything at this time. I only hope that you send word once you have finished your journey, otherwise Ariah will drag me back up there to check on you all.”
         With a sad smile, the king said his farewell and started his ride north. It had been over three months since he left Harta and the guilt, regret, and shame had not dissipated. If anything, his week of nightmares seemed to intensify those feelings.
         The first few days went by with minimal conversation since both men were lost in their thoughts. However, by day five, they began superficial conversation in a sorry attempt to lighten the mood. This would be a long trip back and neither of them pretended otherwise.

         “Kole, I need you to assist me.” Fallon said as he sat in front of the campfire. It was not quite dark and the fire had just been set up and lit. He held out his hand with the shears. Kole stood still, uncertain. “Please,” Fallon said more softly.
         “My king,” Kole said as he slowly took the shears and moved to stand behind the other man. With a deep breath, he grasped a clump of the king’s hair and cut through it. The thick, black chunks dropped to the ground at their feet.

         When the young man had finished and evened out the cut up as much as possible, he looked at the ground, the dark hair laying all around them in piles. Fallon’s once shaggy hair was cropped short, the blood red highlights no longer visible. Rising, the king collected the fallen hair and threw it into the fire. Then, moving to his tattered and bloody clothing, he threw that in the fire as well. It is finished.

         The two men had ridden for weeks, stopping for food, drink and soap just before entering Kezna. They stayed longer than Kole thought necessary as Fallon visited shops alone, but he kept his thoughts to himself and simply did as he was expected. They made their way to a lake before the border and, stripping off his clothing, Fallon washed the dirt and sweat from his tunic and cleaned his face and hair. He had never allowed himself to have facial hair in the past, but this was a new day, a new life. He felt the beard that had begun to grow. It made his face itch when he sweated. However, looking at his reflection in the water, who he saw was not the mercenary he had thought he had become. He did not even see the killer he swore he was. He saw someone completely unrecognizable, someone who had come up from the ashes of an age in history. He sunk under the water, feeling the cool liquid close over him. He washed the dirt from his skin and he could have sworn it cleaned the sorrow from his very soul. The last time he had been submerged in water, his entire life had changed and he was given a new one. This time, though, he finally stopped holding onto the old one. Fallon's head broke the surface of the water and he washed his hair, body and beard. Then he stood in the water, staring silently toward his castle, toward his wife and child, and toward his home.

         Kole watched his monarch in the water, the change in him had been astounding. Not so much in his actions or behavior, but the guard could tell just by looking into his eyes that he was no longer the same man that rode from the gates of his city so long ago. The young man lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head. They had made camp early today. Fallon wanted to look fresh when he presented himself to the queen the next day. Kole looked up at the tree branches above him, the sunlight turning green as it was filtered through the large leaves. So much had changed. His best friend had died and he had killed more people than he had ever thought possible. His skin was scarred and his mind was, too. The nightmares he had after his eyes closed each night were almost worse than the reality he had lived through. A sound brought his attention back to the lake. Fallon was dressed in a simple blue tunic and gray breeches he had purchased to wear until his other clothes were dry.

         Slowly, Fallon knelt and unfolded a large piece of cloth that had been stored in his saddlebag. Kole looked on curiously. So this was what he purchased in secret at the last village. The king then untied two wooden poles that he had attached to each side of his saddle. He twisted them together and tied the large cloth to one end. Raising the long pole to the sky, he rammed the bottom into the dirt. Stepping away, he glanced at his guard. Kole raised his eyes. Before them was a regal banner of deep, dark blue, the emblem emblazoned in the middle, a large fiery phoenix, its body rising out of gray ash and rubble.

         "It's time Kezna became a new nation, Kole. It will not be the same as ever before."

         The next morning, Fallon tied leather into a makeshift holder for the king's new standard. He dressed in his new clothing and mounted his horse, a dark, dapple gray mare. She was three years old and fast as any horse he'd ever ridden. His former mare was lost in the taking of the fortress, and he was beginning to grow fond of this large steed. The horse was of burly stock, rippling with heavy muscle. Fallon assumed she was the offspring of a purebred and a work horse because she had the best of speed and strength. The mare's temperament was gentle and she was more like a lovable child than a pet or a beast of burden. She had been newly broken and trained, and when Fallon purchased her for far above what he would have normally paid for a temporary mount, she had nuzzled him immediately and followed him when he walked around her to check for injuries or brands. He had been intrigued by the beast the moment he had heard she had never been formally ridden and she was instantly attached to him. He had named her Angelfire after the gems in the mountains of the forest angels. After the destruction that had brought pain, anguish, and freedom.

         And now he rode her, carrying his newly adopted royal standard behind him. They galloped across the fields, Kole beside them the entire time. There were more settlements out in the fields far from the castle. In the time he had been away, the realm was somehow still flourishing. Though there had been attacks on the castle, it seemed all was calm and at peace.

         People stopped and stared at the two strangers carrying what appeared to them to be a foreign king's banner. The two men ignored the looks and continued on to the city walls. When the stone watch towers came into view, Fallon noticed that they were under construction. Calya had contracted stone workers to expand the city limits. They were nearly a mile out from the old walls that stood like ancient guardians of an old city. Everything was becoming new. The men on the new watch towers blew a horn, grabbing the attention of those on the old wall.

         "Halt!" A loud voice cried out from above. "State your business!"

         Fallon and Kole reigned in their steeds and looked up. Fallon hollered back, "I've come for an audience with the queen." It was obvious they did not recognize either of the men. Fallon did not recognize them either. They were probably new guards appointed because of the expanded borders of the city. If Fallon was being honest, he would not have recognized himself either.

         The guard called down again. “From where have you come?”

         Fallon answered. “We have travelled from the Lowlands.” An escort came out of the gates. The escort was made up of ten guards assigned to bring them to the palace. It was strange being treated as a foreigner in his own city, though he could not blame them. Kole shifted uneasily in the saddle beside him. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with this as well since he had also never been in this situation. The sounds of the bustling city surrounded them and drowned out the hoofbeats on the cobblestone. Upon reaching the courtyard, they were asked to wait while a servant was instructed to request an audience with the queen on behalf of the foreigner. Calya would probably assume it was some dignitary of one of the Lowland kings come to offer a treaty upon hearing that the mercenaries' numbers were being cut down by an unknown swordsman.

         The moments dragged on as if time had ceased altogether. Fallon now shifted uneasily. His eyes scanned the great doors of the hall, searching for any sign of movement. After enough time passed that the king was beginning to doubt his queen would come at all, the doors were pushed open. A little boy ran through the opening, teetering and losing his balance just outside. The toddler fell and laughed. "Horsey!" The little boy yelled, holding out his hands and squealing. It took only a moment for Fallon to recognize his son. Tears came then and he let them. Leaping from his horse, he ran to the little boy and dropped to his knees. Swords were drawn and Kole was behind him in an instant, blade in his hand, his eyes daring the palace guards. Calya ran out after her son and stopped at the sight of a bearded man hugging her toddler and weeping.

         "Sir, what do you think you are-" Her voice caught in her throat when her husband lifted his head to look into her eyes and she choked back a sob. Her feet felt like lead and she could not force herself to move. She had become used to his absence these two years, no matter how much she abhorred it. She could not pretend she believed he would ever return. The nightmares each night tormented her relentlessly and in the end her and the boy slept together in the king's absence so they would not be lonely.

         The last two years had aged Calya as well. Fallon took in the sight of her, the stress lines from sleepless nights spent crying and the white hairs from being a single mother and running an entire country alone. Then he noticed her clothing. She wore chainmail covered gauntlets, steel lined boots, a tunic and pants and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. His wife looked ready to fight, dressed in a more feminine version of his own mercenary clothing. It was obvious that she had struggled and battled for herself and their son while he had stayed away. He loathed himself for leaving her for all this time. Trayzer wriggled uncomfortably. "Mama! Not let go!" Fallon let his son go without ever taking his eyes from his wife.

         In one fluid movement, he stood and stepped forward till he was right in front of her. Her lip was quivering as she held back her tears. "Fall-" she gulped. "You… you came…"

         He cut her off, "I love you." And then his lips came crashing against hers. The queen's tears began to fall. When he pulled away and held her face in his hands, she sobbed uncontrollably. His tears fell just as freely and he embraced her tightly.

         "Mama! Who the man? Why you cry?" Calya wiped her tears and crouched down to lift him up. "Trayzer, this is your… your father." She choked on her words again as she spoke.

         By now the entire courtyard and the entire hallway and doorway of the palace were filled with guards and servants watching the scene play out before them. Dane stood in the doorway in shock, and Kole had relaxed and smiled at the reunion. The two men’s eyes met and they nodded to each other before looking back at the family. Fallon had kept to himself the entire trip back to Kezna and he had remained impossible to read. But now, Kole watched as the king swept up both his wife and little boy in his arms and carried them into the great hall followed by Dane and the servants. With a sad, forlorn smile, he turned to leave. He was no longer needed here. It was time to find a place of his own and try to settle down somehow. If the king could move past everything and finally have his family, then maybe he could as well.