Part 3

As the three of them walked outside, the almost windless, cold air bit their faces.

They turned back to see their fortress, grey and dark

some three hundred yards behind them. The snow wasn’t as heavy as

it’d been the previous winters, yet, it reached to just below their knees

and illuminated the landscape ahead. Half covered with wood and

hills and half open - empty, white and full of horrific opportunities.

The moon was yet to rise above the Khantalin mountains in the north

and Devus felt relieved. He’d at least arrived in time.

“I’m freezing!” Phee complained, regretting not having brought any

of her woolen garments.

“The next time you decide to infiltrate an excursion, you might

want to dress accordingly.”

“I waited for you in the tunnel since the morning.” She said, smiling

proudly. “I thought you’d take the left turn after the door. There’s a

tunnel that seems to lead deeper down rather than north.”

“To a dungeon you say?” Devus asked and she nodded eagerly. He

was about to ask if she’d gone down herself, but then, in between the

pines, they could see an animal making its way towards them.

Reindeers became rarer and rarer each passing year, but the ones left,

the Aragátis used for dragging their sleds and filling their bellies. The

one approaching them now was pulling Avrá – not in a sled but a pulk

that certainly wouldn’t fit the four of them.

“Burru!” She said (the tribe’s way of greeting) while waving her

hand, clothed in a thick, brown mitten.

“Behold the princess and her beast.” Phee commented. The girl was

dressed in animal hide and her coal-black hair was shining

underneath her large hood. The Aragáti looked very different from the

other tribes of Araktéa. Their skin much fairer, their faces fla&er and

their eyes dark and narrow. This one in particular, had rosy cheeks

much like Phee did. Avrá’s had obviously not been painted on

however but were more like little, cold kisses from the winter air. She

smiled easily as she stepped out of the pulk.

“You said you’d come alone.” She said to Devus, non-accusingly. Her

voice, as low and as soothing as the winter breeze.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t shake them off, but I assure you they won’t be

any trouble.” Avrá looked towards the girl, who she remembered

(possibly as trouble in human form) from many years back. Her arms

crossed around her body. Fiery curls framing her face and a pre&y,

but much too thin, dark blue cloak wrapping the rest of her.

“You’ll be cold.” She commented. “May I offer you a coat? I’m

wearing several layers.” Phee lifted her chin up and smiled stiffly.

“No thank you.” She said, suppressing an urge to tremble and after

meeting with Devus' warning gaze she said no more than that. Avrá’s

narrow eyes wandered over to Redric’s bright blue ones. He smiled

kindly and she recalled him as the boy who’d offered to help her father

carry hides, while the other children had been singing and listening to

hero tales from when the world had been young.

“We won’t fit in the pulk. Are all of you prepared to walk for the

next four miles?” The most earnest and rational answer would clearly

have been no. Devus hardly ever got cold, but the snow went deep and

he’d successfully negotiated himself out of most physical classes for

the past two semesters.

“We are.” He said, nodding eagerly, his dark curls bouncing up and

down and his white teeth in perfect contrast to his cinnamon skin.

“Hold on now. From what I’ve learned, your moon rituals are

usually not performed very far from your village.” Phee commented.

“There’s an eclipse tonight. If you do not trust me to bring you to

the right place, it is be&er that you return back home.” Avrá

responded calmly. Phee u&ered a sound of offense raising her

eyebrows at the girl who’s expression didn’t flinch. She then looked

from Devus to Redric.

“I’ll walk you back.” Redric offered, and she looked as if she was

about to say yes, but then she raised her chin and shook her head

fiercely.

“No. I’ll manage.”

“But it’s dark and...”

“The tunnel is only a few stone throws away, Redric. I’ll be fine.

Besides, I never cared much about going anyways. But you wanted to

see it, remember?”

“Yes, but....”

“Redric,” she lowered her voice and touched his arm now, leading

him slightly to the side. “Make sure Devus doesn’t go off dying or

doing something too impulsive, would you?” She didn’t like admi&ing

to it, but ever since they’d been li&le she’d felt an unexplainable need

to protect him - mostly from himself. He could seem crude and

insensitive at times, she knew that, but deep down, she thought he

just felt things double as much as everyone else. There were things

she felt as well, what exactly it was right in this moment she wasn’t sure of,

but the Aragáti girl gave her the chills in a similar way that the snow and

the ice did. Avrá was so composed - so motionless she was practically unreadable to her.

“Okay, Phee.” Redric agreed. She smiled and thanked him and

though he didn’t want to go with Devus, it all seemed worth it to him

within that moment. It was over soon enough. As Philomena turned

on her heel, it felt about as disappointing and abrupt, as if the sun

suddenly had gone down in the middle of the day.

“Let’s get going already.” Devus said, and so they did. The reindeer

walking beside them, the compass pointing north and buried safely in

his chest pocket.

As the moon rose behind the Khantalin mountains, the brightness

of the stars dimmed down. Avrá had once told Devus that her people

originated from there. That all peoples did in some way, and she’d told

him a beautiful tale about how they’d arrived in Araktéa a long time ago.

That first, they’d come down from the stars in another world - a mirror

world to theirs, as she’d called it. They’d then entered through a portal in

Khantal and spread all across Araktéa. Some of them had made it all the

way to the far south – beyond the Unnamed mountains, where they’d planted

the seeds of the Parda. But the

Aragáti had stayed closer to the stars. Defying the cold to protect

what was left of the original, sacred knowledge – their true roots and

origins. Passing it down through songs and tales. Though Devus

enjoyed most of her tellings (be them true or not), this had reminded

him a li&le too much of the stories loons would tell you. Loons were

exiles from Khantal – Araktéa’s neighbour country and sworn enemy

for centuries. No loon had ever come to their fortress, but they were

known for being mad at best and lying, cunning and devious at worst.

Some even claimed they possessed magic. Though he’d love to meet a

real loon one day, Devus preferred to believe that Avrá and the

Argátis were a very different kind of people - wise and well-intended

people.

“I assume your father doesn’t know we’re coming?” Usually, he

wouldn’t need to bother with the inconvenience of initiating

conversation, but Avrá was far more comfortable with silence than

anyone else he’d ever known. It was something he respected, but he

was also curious about exactly what would be occurring.

“He does not. You’ll have to watch it from afar. This ritual isn’t

meant for outsiders.”

“May I ask, why you want to show it to us, then?“ Redric

wondered, hoping he wasn’t sounding offensive or ungrateful for her

invitation.

“Because I believe in union and Devus is my friend. His interest in

our culture has always been genuine. He’ll be the Commander of the

Dabárian fortress someday, and how can you properly protect a

people you do not fully understand?” Redric didn’t know the answer

to this and so he smiled diplomatically. Nodded, though he knew

there was no certainty at all that Devus would be their next

Commander. He was Nicholas’ son and would likely take a part of the

council in a few years’ time, but it had long been clear that the choice

of a future “Patron” was likely to come from a vote. Devus knew this

too of course, but allowed her assumptions of such a dynastical

structure remain as it was. Whatever her reasoning for bringing

them, the last thing he wanted was for her to change her mind.

“We’re both honored and we promise to be discreet.” He assured

and Redric made sure he was walking a bit behind, keeping an eye on

their trail and the placement of the stars, whilst giving the two of

them some privacy. He had expected there might be some initial

shyness, but their conversation soon flew by. For the first mile, Redric

half-listened while trying to memorize the movements he’d need to

perform on the next day. Seen away from Devus (who was a class on

his own and whose subjects had become more and more personalized over the years),

he was currently considered the best student in the Secret Academy.

His strongest subjects included Negotiation, Fencing and Character-development.

However, his results came from continuous practice and discipline, rather

than having a mind that seemed to remember every tiny detail of their curriculum.

Redric refused to give this up for this one, mistaken night.

They’d been taught about Aragáti culture some years before. One of

his roles (he had three that he’d been practicing since he was six of age)

was that of an anthropologist who specialized in the Dabárian tribe.

The Capitalers rarely made it this far north, and so one of their

insiders in Nagár had predicted there soon would be a demand for

scholars within this field. Though the Secret Academy had increased

in both sophistication and knowledge, most subjects had more to do

with refining their student’s “appearances'' than obtaining any

profound expertise. Mostly, it was a game of pretend as their main

mission was, to someday soon, infiltrate the Capitaler’s own Academy

- overthrowing the Realm’s unholy system from the inside. Once this

was done, they’d create a new and better world, free of corruption and

cruelty. Someday – some day very soon – this would happen, Redric prayed,

but there and then, with a real Aragáti some feet ahead of him, he sensed

his knowledge of her people was embarrassingly superficial. And, as he’d

been taught in Character-development, silence could sometimes be the

safest way to hide ignorance, as well as worry.

Both of which he was feeling increasingly. He’d become a fine pretender

of many things, but the further they strayed from the

fortress, the more apparent it became just how real and how gravely

serious the current situation was growing. With this increasing

uneasiness, he surprised himself, as he stopped and looked around

the thickening woods. Even now, far out there, he still felt more occupied

about being caught by the council, than to be killed by some sinister thing.

“Teague?” Redric asked, after they’d been walking for a few miles,

too similar in appearances.

“What?” Devus asked crassly. He’d almost forgo&en about him, all-

consumed by Avrá’s explanation of the cautious details of tonight’s

ritual. Apparently, the dead, the loons and all the ones that walked in

what she called the space “in-between”, would be loud and powerful

tonight and he was eager to hear them.

“Are you sure we’ll find our way back? I’ve completely lost count of

steps and trees...” He’d done fairly well in Navigation, but he hadn’t

used it for some time and the stars were positioned differently in the

winter. If it snowed – for some reason he felt it would most definitely

snow tonight despite the cloudless skies – they might struggle upon

returning.

“I brought the compass – remember?”

“Yes, but are you certain it’s completely accurate?”

“Well of course it’s accurate Redric, that’s the whole point of the

thing.“

“How can you be so sure if you’ve had no other compass to

compare it with?“ Devus snarled and wanting to continue his

conversation with Avrá, he fetched it from his pocket and passed it to

him. Redric looked surprised if not outright startled, and within the

moments that followed the sudden act, he briefly met with Avrá’s

eyes – more expressive now than they’d been, looking at the compass

with subtle alertness, then softening again as she smiled.

“Do not lose it.” Devus barked.

“Of course not...” Redric said, feeling both honored and terribly

responsible now that it was laying in his own hand. He removed his

glove just to get a real feel of the thing. That it’d be there in his palm

was a silly dream he’d always had, and though it looked nothing like

he’d imagined it would – no golden needle and far smaller and simpler

than what the rumors claimed, he couldn’t help but grin like a fool.

“You’re a leader at heart Redric.” Nicholas had told him that last

summer, and though he was lagging behind in the snow just then -

though he’d allowed himself to be pursued on this outrageous quest -

he knew in his heart it was true, and so a new sense of purpose came

over him. If nothing else, he would make sure the compass was taken

back safely.

As the three of them continued walking north, he was about to put

it in his inner pocket, but just then, its needle started moving.

“Devus...”

“What now?”

“The compass is behaving quite strangely. I think we’re lost...” The

needle spun in rapid circles, and suddenly the arrow was pointing

further west than it had before – though Redric hadn’t changed

direction.

“That makes no sense, Redric.” Devus sighed. As precious as it was,

the compass was a fairly simple tool. He could say many ill-meaning

things about Redric – his need to please, his excessive politeness and

the fact that his mother had him by the balls. Not to say, this foolish

enchantment he had with Phee and his superficial charm – the list

went on. He was not, however, a complete idiot.

“Come and see for yourself, then.” He presented it and Devus took

the compass back. Just as it laid in his palm it started spinning again.

“This is... peculiar.” Devus admi&ed and both of them stared at it,

then each other.

“Try holding it again.” Redric did, and just as surely the needle

redirected west, though they were standing in the very same position.

“It’s the different magnetism from your hands that affects it.” Avrá

explained somewhat cautiously.

“You know about compasses and magnetism?” Devus asked.

“You told me your father had one when we were five. Remember –

we Argáti never forget. This is the compass that you spoke of, no?”

“Yes. I had almost forgo&en the fact that you never forget.” Devus

admitted.

“I didn’t think you ever forgot about anything, Teague...” Redric

remarked, his eyes still fixed on the needle – pointing west and

straight towards the fortress. Oh, how he wanted to go back.

“I never forget an image or anything wri&en on paper. Dialogue

tends to be a bit less accurate in my mind... anyhow – this is

fascinating. And strange – I can’t recall having read about any

compass behaving like this...”

“May I hold it?” Avrá asked.

“No.” Redric was quick to say.

“What do you mean, no?” Devus barked.

“What if she... breaks it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Redric sent Devus a warning look. “Give it to

her, I want to see what happens.”

“No, Teague. I’m pu&ing my foot down. We’re not giving her the

compass.” He did not like the way the girl was eying the thing, nor

how long this walk seemed to be taking them.

“That’s not for you to decide, Redric.” Devus was still calm enough,

but his large, wild eyes certainly weren’t.

“Nor is it yours. I’m making a decision as a student of the Secret

Academy and on behalf of our council.” He stated formally, finally

sensing his presence was truly needed there. He could tell that Devus

was close to getting a little hysterical. Mostly, he’d stopped having the

tantrums that had once made their teachers miserable, but it always

seemed to be lurking right underneath the surface – explosive,

irrational and to some people terrifying. But Redric wasn’t afraid of

Devus Teague. As much as he might consider himself an outsider, he

was just a bully with a vicious tongue.

“It is alright, Devus. I don’t need to hold it.” Avrá assured him “but

perhaps it is be&er that the two of us continue on our own. My rein

can bring Redric back to the tunnel. It knows the way. My people will

sense his mistrust and judgement from afar, and you won’t go

undiscovered.” Yet again, Redric found the opportunity of return

tempting, but as much as he disliked him, he’d promised Phee he

would keep an eye on Devus. He couldn’t leave him out there without

the compass, and he refused to give it back to him.

“I’m coming. Even if I have to stay on the side, so far away they

can’t sense me.” Though the girl looked completely unsurprised and

unaffected, something about her air seemed to shift, and the tension

all around intensified along with it. Devus turned his back on them, his

bones restless with aggravation, as he looked towards the moon

again. It had grown larger and more bloody red than he’d ever seen it

before.

“Is there a long way left, Avrá?” he asked, making an effort to stay

calm though blood was flushing through him like the new river

streams that were escaping the ice of the massive mountain range.

“There’s only a few miles left. They’re close to the wall. Soon, we’ll

be able to hear the drums.” She assured him.

“Hold on – “ Devus said, sensing, perhaps for the first time in his

life, that female charm had go&en the best of him. That he’d lost track

of both time and be&er senses. “Didn’t you tell me before that to

respect the borders with the Khantalins, your people always stay at

least three miles away from the wall?” he looked towards it. Tried to

listen, but there were no songs – no cha&er from dead nor living. All

he could hear were the fadest gusts of wind, low, obscure and perhaps warning.

“It seems your memory is remarkable after all. If you wanted to, I’m

sure you could remember and retell everything I’ve ever told you if

you tried...” Before Devus could comment on this, Avrá had pulled a

knife from her leather belt. He held his arms before him in defense,

but she did not aim it at him. Instead, she placed it in Redric’s right sideand,

in utmost surprise by the sudden attack, he moaned and fell to the ground.

Devus turned towards them as Avrá – moving as quick as a shadow – bent

down next to him. Redric screamed in pain, but all

the while it was the compass Devus had his eyes on. Before he’d

blinked, Avrá had snitched it from the snow and now she was

standing still and steady some steps away from them. The knife in her

right hand in front of her, the compass resting in her left.

“I am sorry for hurting you. Forgive me.” She said to Redric, and

turning towards a gaping Devus she said. “And I’m sorry that I lied,

but you said you would come alone. Certain details change things...”

She explained, just barely out of breath and her face not completely

free of shame. The Aragátis were not violent people.