8 Brighter side

A forlorn flinch was heard chirruping in its cracked voice. The cold, enslaved wind transmitted to a warm, solacing touch. The murky, dull clouds cleared, and for the first time one could see the blue infinite sky. The wind was significantly freed from its stench they had been living with for weeks. The hurried events presaged a revelation too good to be true. But, they knew better than to be hopeful again.

When Tristan, Ava and Olean returned along with the beasty ride, there was already a small crowd gathered at the front of the temple. It was unusual for them to loiter outside even in broad daylight. For any other day they would be working their separate duties, looking for scraps to eat, twigs to burn. Tristan didn't see whose voice it was that announced their arrival, but when the three of them finally were on the foyer, all eyes were on Ava.

Ignoring all the stares Ava strode on without a pause, heading straight for the crowd. The folks were weary and their eyes were filled with suspicion.

"You are saved now. The… monster is dead." Ava declared, crisp and loud.

Silence spread through them with a shock, eyes wide with disbelief. They looked at each other and then at her as if to confirm what they heard was even true, and finding reasons to trust her.

Sir Lepin limped forward, leaning heavily on his cane as his face twisted in pain. He was a big old man, always at the front whenever something happened in his village - the first to speak, the first to take action. Whenever someone needed advice or some matter needed solving they came to him, even the Elder listened to Lepin. Tristan had heard they were friends from when they were kids. Although the recent lack of food had left him limp and gangling, he hadn't changed much. If anything, his sunken eyes and hollow cheeks had made him much scarier. His face was in constant grimace after he had wounded his leg, and the occasional smiles he wore were long gone.

"The monster, as you just called it, that did all that?" Lepin pointed toward their ruined village below. Ava followed his gaze but quickly turned to look back at him.

"Twenty three men, seventeen women and nineteen children fell to it." He took a deep breath; many like Tristan were looking down. Tristan too had lost his whole family. His father died as he tried to save his mother and sisters. Tristan only survived because he was at the temple that night, learning from his master.

"And then the rest caught the plague." Lepin pulled his collar down, showing ash grey patches of skin below his neck. "Now we are just waiting for our turn." Unconsciously, Tristan pulled his sleeves up and stopped once he realized what he was doing. His patches weren't fit to show.

"'The monster stopped mattering to us for a while now, but it's good that you killed it, I guess."

Though it wasn't said out loud, Tristan saw condemn underneath. And from the looks of it everyone felt the same. Lepin looked down at the woman, eyes challenging her to retort. After what seemed like an eternity Ava looked away and asked.

"Is this…?"

She pointed at his leg. Lepin's eyes widened slightly in surprise but he quickly straightened himself. Her tone was even, same harsh and hard like when Tristan had first met her. She didn't seem least bit bothered by what was said.

"What… what the hell you think you doing, Lady?" Sir Lepin tried stopping her. He looked around at his villagers. They were all stunned to respond as he.

Slowly, Ava kneeled down and lifted Lepin's trouser from the left ankle. A gnarled scar that ran from the knee to all the way down to his heel was exposed; ugly, red and sore. "Hey! What?" He called out again, startled, but his leg was in the woman's iron grip. She pressed the thumb of her free hand on the wound and chanted something like the previous night. Tristan tried to listen what was said but he couldn't hear, let alone understand. The thumb went up along the wound, leaving behind tender pink skin.

There was a low buzzing that came from the crowd as all the eyes were on Ava. They were wide and hungry for information.

Once Ava had traced the wound completely she stood up and addressed the whole group.

"I am Ava Anlouf of Sharak and I am a healer. I am under direct request from Pearl to take care of you."

It was like he was seeing the two for the first time. Even this far out in the world, the names Sharak and Pearl were well known - the greatest Guild in the Faeraq Mae and their greatest hero the Blue Pearl. They were no less than a legend. And now Olean's extraordinary abilities somewhat made sense.

When he was younger, Tristan dreamed of going to Mahani, and then somehow join Sharak. Children his age dreamed to be a hero like Pearl or Rivan, or to work under them. They would argue over who was better, girls would say Pearl, and for the boys it was Rivan.

Tristan didn't say out loud but he preferred Pearl. But as he grew older that unrealistic dream faded, and his goal was to move to a town and work there as a hunter and then learn more magic and become a state wizard. And until recently just getting through the next day was enough. A childlike spark filled him knowing he had been with two liaisons from Sharak. He had talked to them, saw one of them work, was even carried in one's arms, though he didn't quite remember that part. He wondered if he'd have done anything differently had he known it earlier.

Olean waited stiff but somehow skittish. She had cleaned up a little in a stream once they were out of the cavern. Ava had given her a new pair of clothes, a long grey shirt and black plants that she wore over her clothes. She tapped her foot impatiently on the ground as she stood with her arms behind her back. Eyes wandered left and right and her mouth kept twisting different ways. She looked bored.

***

"Tristan!"

While the rest of the village dispersed along with the two guests, Madam Nicola broke out of the crowd and pulled Tristan aside. She was a woman of about his mother's age who never married, somewhat of an outcast. Her pale face had wrinkles around her eyes and lips, and an abiding smile around her mouth. Though not conventionally pretty, she had a pleasant face. She looked concerned. She was the only one that cried for every soul they had lost and genuinely cared for everyone's well being. Tristan had begun to respect her much more in recent days for that.

"Yes Madam?"

He asked, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut.

"Nowsem… didn't… make it last night." She paused to look at his face before continuing, "Dhura found him this morning on his bed. We don't think he was in any pain when it happened. We kept him in the crypt thinking you'd like to do the rites."

Tristan had imagined he was ready for it, even Nowsem himself had tried to prepare him. But his world spun around his head when he was hit by the news. He had been with the man constantly for the last few days, only leaving him during his watches. And just the day that he was not with him his teacher passed on. Tristan felt betrayed and bitter.

He ran inside.