《Death's Omen》


 Awakening

    I can feel the sun on my skin and the shadows moving above me. There¡¯s birdsong in the background, but not like that of bird-folk. I test each of my limbs, making sure they¡¯re there. My left hand is numb, but I can feel it moving against my leg. I pry open my eyes, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the leaves far above me. I hear the shift of dried leaves to my left and I turn to look, my head pounding. A man sits there, watching with calm interest as his skin knits together, turning from black, to grey, to brown, to a deep golden tan. He doesn¡¯t seem to notice I¡¯m awake yet, more interested in watching as his flesh bubbles, filling the space between his shin bones and engulfing his foot.


    I watch too, fascinated and disgusted and knowing. I don¡¯t really¡­ know what I know, but I can feel the knowledge of what is happening tickling the back of my brain. I look back to the man¡¯s face, startling when he is staring back with dark eyes. He grins, a flash of sharp teeth and a hole in his cheek before it knits together. I sit up, wincing at the various pains throughout my body. My side aches like something was broken but it¡¯s healing, and my throat is sore like I¡¯ve been screaming.


    ¡°Hello, there. I see the little nightshade has woken up,¡± he says, teasing tone lilting his accent. I frown a bit, trying to place where he¡¯s from, who he is. I¡¯m pretty sure, from what I saw, that he was dead at one point. Definitely not anymore.


    ¡°...who are you? Where are we?¡± I finally say.


    ¡°Great question, kid. I have no idea where we are. But who I am, I can definitely answer. I am Oswin Tresiccisert,¡± he says, pushing himself up to stand. I start at the god-name, marking Oswin as god-touched by Tressic. The dream god. Deity of trickery and illusions. A dangerous friend and even more dangerous enemy. Oswin looks down at me, holding a hand out. On his forearm is Tressic¡¯s symbol, swooping down and over and swirling across his skin. I grab his hand, letting him help me up.


    ¡°Why?¡± I say, frowning more now. Why would Merri, the goddess of death and endings, bring a god-touched person back to life? Why was it Oswin, of all people? Why are we standing here? Why don¡¯t we know where we are? Why don¡¯t I remember anything?


    Oswin shrugs, as if he had heard all of my questions. ¡°Well. You¡¯re here with me, so I guess Merri decided her new tchiakci needed protection,¡± he says, waving towards my hand. I look down, noting the sharp lines, gentle curves of the circle. It looks like a tattoo, but I know deep down that it will feel engraved in my skin. ¡°Apparently I was the best choice for whatever reason.¡± I nod, mostly just focused on the goddess¡¯s claim on my skin. Why did she choose¡­ me? Then a small thing finally registers in my head. Tchiakci was an old word, one I knew I hadn¡¯t heard in my lifetime, but one I knew all the same.


    God-touched, blessed, chosen.


    ¡°So. You¡¯re a Tresiccisert, and I¡¯m¡­ a Merrirrem?¡± I say, the words feeling strange in my mouth. Oswin nods, looking faintly amused at my stumbling tongue. ¡°And you¡¯re¡­ what? Supposed to teach me or something? I think dreams are very different from death.¡± I scowl at Oswin, who finally laughs.


    ¡°Dreams and death aren¡¯t so different, actually. But you¡¯ll learn in time,¡± he says, mussing my hair. I reach up to fix it, pushing him away and turning.


    ¡°Fine. Whatever. Where are we going?¡± I say, looking around the forest. To the west, it falls off towards a beach, water glinting in the bright sun. To the south, north, and east are more woods, but something that sounds like a stream is more north-east. That would probably be our best bet, but I still look to Oswin to see what he says. He glances at me, raises one eyebrow, and walks off towards the sound of the stream. I huff and follow after him.


    The bank of the stream is rocky and muddy, and I nearly slip several times before righting myself. Oswin doesn¡¯t seem to have nearly as much trouble, waiting whenever I fall too far behind but not offering to help me up. I make sure to keep scowling at his back as we walk, but there¡¯s no flames yet that have sprung up, so I give up after an hour. After I slip for a fifth time, Oswin sighs and turns to me.


    ¡°Kid. Don¡¯t step on the rocks or roots. Step on the clumps of grass, they¡¯re more solid and you won¡¯t slip as much,¡± he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a clump of grass. ¡°See? No falling! Now come on, I¡¯d like to figure out how to get supplies without worrying you¡¯re going to fall in the stream and die.¡± I roll my eyes, but follow after him, stepping where he steps and making sure to stay on the grass clumps.


    Sure enough, I don¡¯t slip again. Far ahead, the trees start to thin, fields beyond them. Oswin starts walking faster, forcing me to go faster so I don¡¯t get left behind. When we reach the edge of the forest, Oswin stops and surveys the fields. Grass as tall as my waist waves gently in the breeze, bugs humming and buzzing. A road stretches out of the forest, meandering into the fields a ways away from us. Oswin glances down at me and grins, gesturing towards the road.


    ¡°Found a path, now we¡¯ve gotta get supplies,¡± he says. I raise an eyebrow at him. ¡°No, I don¡¯t know how we¡¯re going to get supplies. I didn¡¯t die with any money on me and, frankly, I rather doubt you did too, considering all of you.¡± I look down at myself, the plain brown trousers, loose tonic, and the belt. My shoes are the only things that look remotely in good condition, and even they¡¯re splattered with unknown stains.


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    ¡°Well, I might have money,¡± I say, sticking my tongue out at Oswin. He rolls his eyes as I search my pockets. I really didn¡¯t think I had money, but my hand brushes a pouch in one pocket that had definitely not been there before. I hesitate, glancing at Oswin with a small frown. He frowns in return, then something seems to click in his eyes.


    ¡°Ah. She forgot that folk use money, huh?¡± he says and I nod, pulling out the pouch of coins. They glitter through the small hole: copper, silver, gold. I stare at it in quiet shock before passing the pouch to Oswin. He weighs it, eyes narrowing before a sharp nod. ¡°We should have enough for clothes, traveling supplies, and weapons. We can catch food later when we find out where we are. Let¡¯s get going.¡±


    We get to the road, which is well-traveled but small. Wagon ruts are carved into the road, small puddles gathering in the ruts. Oswin walks in the middle of the road, where the horses would normally walk and pull the wagon. I follow behind, imagining us as horses for a moment, grinning to myself as we walk. Clouds skitter across the sky high above, the wind whipping them into kinked lines like rope rather than fluff like the wool of sheep. I keep my eyes trained upwards, trying to find patterns in them far above. I¡¯m brought back by a hand on my shoulder. Oswin is staring ahead, a small frown on his face and he nods in the direction the road leads. I follow his gaze and pause.


    Stretching out across the road, a ways down from us, are garlands hung from posts, looping back and forth across the road. A town shouldn¡¯t be too far if there¡¯s spring garlands here, clearly fresh with bright flowers laced with colorful ribbon. I walk to them, Oswin following behind, and go up on my toes to look at them closer. Sure enough, words are written on the ribbons twined through the vines and flowers. I can make out simple wishes for money, good harvest, love, and then there¡¯s¡­ others. Safety, loved ones to come home, the war to end¡­ These are written on green, black, white ribbons. They¡¯re calling on Merri and Pen to grant these wishes and not their local god. I frown and look over at Oswin, his brows furrowed and frowning even more than me.


    He looks down at me and says, ¡°Well. We better get to town and figure out what¡¯s going on, hm? Don¡¯t want to get caught up in this war.¡± I nod in agreement, a small whisper in the back of my brain like I¡¯m forgetting something. Shaking my head, I follow after Oswin.


    More green ribbons are threaded in as we walk and I slide my hand into Oswin¡¯s, a strange feeling pressing down on my chest. I ignore it as the first buildings come into view. Small wooden houses with animals in pens. Cows, sheep, pigs, horses, chickens. Whatever war there is, it hasn¡¯t touched this area yet, at least not physically. Closer to town, I hear the sound of voices, music, some playful shouting. It¡¯s comforting, soothing some part of my soul that I¡¯d forgotten. I subconsciously take the lead, pulling Oswin towards the noise. There¡¯s people gathered towards the center of the town, clapping along to music and dancing. There¡¯s a couple of booths, food piled on one and small, pretty things laid out on the other. A man notices us as we walk, and comes up to us with a bright smile.


    ¡°Oh, hello! We don¡¯t get much in the way of travelers from further south, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯re headed back home, hm?¡± he says, glancing at Oswin as he says it, smiling brightly. I glance over at Oswin, wondering why the man thinks Oswin is from the north. But instead of sharing that same confusion, Oswin laughs and grasps the man¡¯s arm in greeting.


    ¡°Aye, cousin, I hope to get back home to Adaphis before the frost sets in, but I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ve gotten quite lost. Pray, cousin, could you tell us where we are?¡± he says. The man looks horrified for a moment before nodding, glancing back to the spring festival.


    ¡°Ah. Adaphis. You must¡¯ve been down south for a long time, then, friend. Come, some of Zahari¡¯s priests are here. They know far more than us about the war and can give you the best path home,¡± he says, waving for us to follow him as he turns. Oswin and I glance at each other before following him.


    I watch as girls and boys twirl around each other, the girls¡¯ faces painted with bright colors and the boys wearing a flower crown to match the girl they dance with. I make eye contact with a person across the crowd, wearing a boy¡¯s crown but painted like a girl. They smile at me and wave. I smile and offer a wave in return before being pulled into a building by Oswin.


    The inside is slightly smoky from the fire that burns hot despite the warm spring day. I wrinkle my nose at the smell, sour and bitter like lemon and wormwood. Two men sit in a corner wrapped in gray robes. Each of them has a glass orb necklace, magic swirling inside the glass. My hand tingles, wanting to reach for one, but I stay still, watching them as the man introduces them.


    ¡°This is Kalix and Agaton. They can help you to get home,¡± the man assures us. ¡°You two look low on supplies. Afterwards, I can help you find something to help you on your way if you still want to go.¡± He claps Oswin on the shoulder and nods to me, walking out the door. The fire crackles for a moment as the men watch us, studying us. I watch them in return, tilting my head.


    ¡°Hm. I thought the last Tresiccisert died a while ago,¡± Agaton says, the older of the two. His hair is white, hands wrapped around a walking stick that leans against his shoulder. Kalix nods, his bright eyes piercing me through.


    ¡°He did. 200 years ago. Strange how he appears now with a child with no memories and a mark of death,¡± he says, gaze dropping to my hand, then to my throat. I touch where he¡¯s looking, stilling when I find scar tissue. If this big of a scar is across my throat, then I should be dead. ¡°You wish to go back to Adaphis, don¡¯t you, Oswin Tresiccisert?¡±


    Oswin sighs and nods, sitting in a chair across from them. ¡°Gods, I always forget how unnerving it is to deal with you,¡± he says. Kalix smiles, amused, as Agaton huffs.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to get to Adaphis in time,¡± he says, waving a hand like he¡¯s swatting a fly. ¡°The Golden General¡¯s Army is too close to it. If you¡¯re determined to head north, Wishlight is your safest bet. Too many god-touched places around it for the Golden Army to get there any time soon. All the refugees from the north are going there. But if you want to stay safe, you should stay here or head back south. If you go north, there will be much to lose.¡± Agaton watches us, scowling, as we absorb this information. Oswin¡¯s eyes narrow.


    ¡°Hm. Understood. Aeron, go outside. Enjoy the festival. I¡¯ll find out more, okay?¡± he says, glancing at me. I hesitate before nodding agreement. The door swings slowly shut, but I can still hear Oswin say, ¡°What do you mean the Golden Army is still here?¡±

 Wraps

    Aeron is just outside the door, but I¡¯m too worried about the Golden Army to worry about them just now. ¡°What do you mean the Golden Army is still here?¡± I say, leaning forward towards Agaton. Kalix eyes me warily, no doubt knowing what I¡¯ve done. Agaton, however, isn¡¯t concerned and simply barks a harsh laugh.


    ¡°You never fulfilled your prophecy! Of course they¡¯re still here. What, do you think a violent religious cult just disappears when you kill their priest and die in the process?¡± Agaton scoffs, waving his hand at me dismissively. That old fox-flame snarls to life in me, but I smother it just as quickly. Pride and arrogance got me nowhere last time, it certainly won¡¯t get me anywhere this time. I lean back, flexing my hands into fists, then relaxing them. Kalix still has his eyes on me, but is starting to lean back too.


    ¡°And now you have a Merrirrem,¡± he says. ¡°Do you know what they can do just yet? No one has seen one for¡­ gods. Thousands of years, if ever.¡± I shake my head, pushing my hair out of my eyes. It¡¯d be good to braid it, but I don¡¯t have the time or patience right now.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s ever been one. Merri is¡­ fair. She doesn¡¯t bring people back,¡± I say, my leg bouncing now. My anxiety is spiraling out of control now that the kid isn¡¯t here.


    ¡°She brought them back,¡± Agaton says, his eyes closed. ¡°There has to be a reason. They had Pennep magic too. Faint, but it was there. But Pen is the one who steals from his sister, she doesn¡¯t usually steal from him.¡±


    I frown. If Aeron has a blessing from the god of life and the goddess of death, then they¡¯d be the most powerful tchiakci ever. But if the blessing from Pen is faint¡­ then they¡¯d either been dead for a while, like me, or they¡¯d been created expressly for Pen¡¯s blessing, but the foolish god had forgotten his new toy and his sister had claimed the child¡¯s power for her own uses. Either could be true, but one would result in Aeron quite possibly being murdered for their power. Not that a blessing could be transferred, but some out there still thought it possible.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go to Wishlight. How far are we?¡± I say, looking up. Kalix has a somewhat neutral expression, a small frown his only sign of disapproval. Agaton, however, smiles. He pulls out a scroll, placing it on the table he sits at with Kalix. It unrolls, showing the continent. I lean in as he points to a small town to the south of Wishlight, across the mountains and the river.


    ¡°This is where we are. It should take you a week¡¯s walk if you stop every night to sleep,¡± Agaton says, looking back towards me. I study the roads and markings. I point to a symbol.


    ¡°A Tresic shrine? This far south?¡±


    Kalix nods confirmation. ¡°When the death priests came after the droughts and famine, they brought stories of him. And you,¡± he says. Ah. So he did know what I could do. I glance at him and offer a sharp smile. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably before gesturing back to the map. ¡°There should also be a Merri temple somewhere on the way. I haven¡¯t heard anything from them for a year, but they¡¯d be happy to take care of the child and train them.¡±


    I bristle at the implication. ¡°If Merri brought me back, she did it for a reason. I¡¯ll stay as Aeron¡¯s guardian, thank you, tchiakok,¡± I spit. Kalix bristles in return, baring his teeth. Agaton uses his staff to keep Kalix from jumping for me and I smirk, leaning back.


    ¡°That word hasn¡¯t been used that way for a century,¡± Agaton says, glaring at the two of us. Me, for using foul language, and Kalix for rising to the bait. ¡°It does not refer to being shunned by the gods anymore, Oswin. People call the Golden Army that. They are traitors of the gods.¡± I glance away, not willing to admit that I feel bad for saying that Kalix is the same as god-traitors.


    ¡°Ah. My apologies. I allowed my anger to get the best of me,¡± I say. Rolling my shoulders, I stand. ¡°The fact of the matter is, however, that Merri chose me to watch over her tchiakci. I won¡¯t fail her. I won¡¯t fail again.¡±


    Agaton studies me before nodding. ¡°I know,¡± he says. ¡°Your heart has always been good. As long as you keep hold of your pride, you will succeed,¡± he says. I nod. Zaharirahazs aren¡¯t prophets, but they¡¯re good at reading the future based on events in the past, so even if Kalix doesn¡¯t think I can take care of Aeron, I¡¯m inclined to trust Agaton more, the older of the two.


    In the silence, there¡¯s screams from outside. Kalix is on his feet by the time I reach the door, slamming it open. There, Aeron stands, staring down in horror at the person at his feet. Already their body is starting to decay, the flower crown adorning their hair falling off as their skin withers. Parents are shielding their children, their children sobbing. I run to Aeron, pulling their hand from the other child. They¡¯re shaking, tears rolling down their cheeks as they look up at me.


    By now, the body has collapsed into itself and I can smell the reek of weeks of decomposition. I ignore it to wipe Aeron¡¯s cheeks, gently shushing them. They cling to my shirt, crying softly. For the first time, I wonder how old they are. Not very. At the oldest, maybe 15, but they¡¯d have to be small for their age. A hand lands on my shoulder and I whip around, teeth bared like the feral animal I am.


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    Kalix raises his hands defensively, cloth wraps in his hands. ¡°I have something for them,¡± he says, nodding to Aeron. They stare blankly up at Kalix, those golden eyes staring into him. I hesitate before moving slightly for Kalix to approach Aeron. He kneels in front of them, holding out the cloth wraps. ¡°Here. Use these. Merri is the goddess of death, and she¡¯s passed the blessing to bring death to you. It¡¯s a strong power, one that will only grow with time, but it can bring misery if used wrong.¡±


    Aeron carefully takes the wraps, fingering the cloth. They nod and look at what remains of the body. By now, it is yellowing bones. They swallow, hard, and kneel next to the skull. Even the birds are silent as Aeron traces Merri¡¯s symbol on the skull with the ash from the fire. They begin to pray in a language I don''t recognize, but as I listen, I start to understand the words a little. It''s a language from the south, but with a strange accent, one I haven¡¯t heard before. Some words are similar to my native tongue, but I¡¯m sure they mean something else in this context.


    Aeron pushes themself up, still trembling slightly. I look at Kalix as I wrap my arm around their shoulders. ¡°We need supplies, but we¡¯ll be gone before sun drown,¡± I say. Kalix nods, face grave.


    ¡°Stay with Agaton, I¡¯ll get what you need,¡± he says, grasping my arm. I hesitate, eyes narrowing before nodding. Kalix smiles, a tight, sad thing, before disappearing into the crowd. There¡¯s still sobbing and stares, but it¡¯s not horrified or angry. It¡¯s almost awed, and I can¡¯t blame these people for that awe. Anyone who worships Merri has come in contact with death, whether it be a close call or the death of their family, but one who is directly blessed by Merri and has clearly come back from death is worthy of respect, no matter what sort of power they have. And from what I can tell, Aeron had no idea what they could do.


    I shield Aeron as best I can as I lead them back into the building. Agaton watches us intently, narrowing his eyes in thought. Aeron sinks into the chair I sat in, gazing into nothing as they rock slightly. Only the fire crackles behind us, lighting up the room.


    ¡°Here, child. Do you know how to wrap your arms?¡± Agaton says, voice soft and kind. Aeron looks up, holding their arms closer to their chest but shaking their head anyway. Agaton smiles gently, holding his hands out. He wears leather gloves and I understand - Aeron can only kill someone if they touch the person¡¯s skin. Aeron hesitates before holding their arms out to Agaton.


    The old man shows them how to wrap the cloth around their arms, quietly instructing them as he goes. The cloth is light enough to not be too hot and loose enough not to restrict blood flow, but I can¡¯t help but stay tense.


    ¡°I just wanted to dance,¡± Aeron says, suddenly. Tears roll down their cheeks. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±


    Agaton and I pause, looking at each other. I close my eyes, sigh, and hug Aeron gently. ¡°I know, skhliseng, I know. I¡¯m sure they know too. You didn¡¯t know what you could do, but we know now and we can prevent it, okay?¡± I say, smoothing their hair back. They glance up at me, eyes focused now.


    ¡°...they¡­ aren¡¯t angry?¡±


    I smile a little. ¡°I think, right now, everyone is just a little shocked. But we¡¯re still leaving before sun drown.¡±


    Aeron nods, looking down at their wrapped hands. Merri¡¯s symbol is gone, tucked away beneath the neat lines of the cloth wraps. I wonder, almost absently, if any part of their skin can kill or if it¡¯s just their hands, but I push that thought away as the door opens again. Kalix stands there with two bags, one only slightly smaller. He tosses the larger one to me and sets the small bag next to Aeron, then scoops up the map from the table.


    ¡°Here. I made sure to pack some clothes and some food for you both, and wraps for the child,¡± he says, handing the map off to me. ¡°Sleeping rolls, some cookware. Things you¡¯ll need.¡± He takes an ax off the wall, passing it to me and moves to the other side of the room. I watch him, his movements tickling something in the far back of my mind.


    ¡°You¡¯re a child of the wolves,¡± I say, tilting my head. No wonder he hadn¡¯t liked me; Jeyy and Horn weren¡¯t overfond of Tresic¡¯s sneaky nature. Kalix glances over his shoulder as he grabs a bow off a shelf. A quiver of arrows is swung down with it.


    ¡°Hm. Smarter than I thought,¡± he says as he hands me the bow. I fasten the ax to one side of my thigh before taking the bow and quiver, leaning them against the table. ¡°But yes. After I reached 18, I met Zahari at one of his temples. My parents gave me their blessing to leave their pack and become one of Zahari¡¯s priests, then I came down here. Not much else to it.¡± He shrugs, grabbing two cloaks off side hooks.


    I glance back at Agaton to see if he¡¯ll object to us taking this much. He simply smiles at us. ¡°We always have extra sets of things on hand,¡± he says dismissively. I nod and accept one of the cloaks, flipping it on with ease. This feels far more comfortable than just one layer of clothes, but I find myself faintly wishing for my old cloak. By now, it¡¯s rotted away with me into the earth, lost forever to Merri¡¯s realm.


    Aeron stares at the cloak in their hands, then awkwardly swings it around. I huff a little out of amusement and exasperation, then carefully adjust it, tying it in the front. ¡°When I have time, I¡¯ll show you how to make clasps for it,¡± I say, then pick up my bag. It takes a second to pull the strap through the slits in the cloak, then tie it to the other side. Aeron watches me before doing the same thing, frowning in concentration. These certain bags can be difficult, but it¡¯s worth it to be able to carry something on your back rather than your side, especially without horses.


    Kalix grabs my arm as I turn. He hesitates before hugging me, one pound of his fist on my back. A brother¡¯s hug, one I haven¡¯t had in a long time. I return the gesture before we pull apart.


    ¡°Keep them safe. I think¡­ a lot of things are in your future,¡± he says, glancing between me and Aeron. The kid looks confused, but I nod. Kalix looks a little relieved and opens the door for us.


    By now, the area has been cleared, the bones collected. We should have a straight path out of town without being stopped or watched, so I urge Aeron towards the road. I wave goodbye to Kalix and Agaton before following Aeron down the street. The sun is high above, just past noon. There¡¯s a few hours before sun drown, so we should be able to make good time. Right now, though, I¡¯m just focused on getting us as far from the town as possible. No matter how much a Merrirrem is worthy of respect, that won¡¯t stop a desperate and angry parent from going after the person who killed their child.