Longing for Light

story 3 with Jirus and Campbell. still mostly a loose collection of stories, but i have something in mind for where this could go

“Ksya did give you her blessing before you left her, did she not?” Jirus asked. 

Catl nodded.

“Taken a lover for yourself, have you, Catl?” Campbell asked, raising a brow.  “Are the town w****s not good enough for you anymore?”

“Take care in how you speak of those who please you,” Jirus warned.  “Or you may find their pleasure is your demise.”

Campbell dutifully nodded, taking  step back as he silenced himself.  A common apology, but only Jirus could force something like that from Campbell so easily.  Catl sighed.  His brother had learned to balance his brash zealotry with something akin to humor"it was perhaps the only way he could find to make it through this war of theirs. 

“War makes men weary of the world, Catl,” Jirus said.  “It is good for her to send into battle with words as much as with weapons.”

Catl gave a half nod in agreement.  He was certainly weary"from the crusade as much as from the crusaders.  Light came at a terrible price, and Ksya had been good to remind him of that. 

“What did she tell you?”

He should have known Jirus would pry.

“The time for refusals had come and gone, polite or no,” Jirus prompted.  “You must use your words, one way or another.”

“Mother of Mercy be with you, though her eyes are blue and dead,” Catl quoted quietly.  “Keep your sense about you and you will keep your head.”

A horn sounded, signaling the last call to for passengers before the caravan pulled out.  Dressed in plain clothes, they were recognized as military only by their erect posture.  Catl could have sworn Campbell had scoffed under his breath--something about fables and rhymes.  He said nothing as he followed Jirus into the last wagon.  Once they were all inside, with Jirus across from them, Catl had expected their conversation to resume.  He was surprised when it did not, but the silence only put him on his guard instead of providing relief. 

To anyone looking on, their company of three could be mistaken for a master and two mages in training.  Beyond what their instructor had taught them, Catl had no doubts that Jirus was familiar with as many forms of sorcery and craft as there were villages outside the empire’s capitol.  Part of him prayed that Campbell would remain too stupid to ever attempt stronger magic than Jirus’ simplified rituals.  His brother would do far more harm than good with it, even if their teacher was the wisest in the royal courts

Jirus pulled out a length of leather cord and began threading it through his fingers.  Campbell’s eyes scanned the landscape for any suspicious activity.  The way was to be clear, but ambush could happen upon civilians as well as soldiers, these days.  Catl followed the designs of Jirus’ cord--runic symbols for a rabbit and a river.  Catl scowled.  I’m not afraid.  Jirus met his gaze and raised an eyebrow, as if to say--No?  Of course you aren’t.  But you are alert.  Keep sharp, but remember only time will tell. 

Catl looked from the cord and back to Jirus.  Yes, time.  It would take that, and perhaps much, much more, to see where this road would take them.  Catl followed his brother’s gaze out the back of the wagon, the words of his lover still lingering in his ear.  Ksya would not save herself for him, so he hadn’t asked for marriage.  Perhaps she had seen the question in him anyway, and had offered her blessing as something like a promise.  Time alone holds the answers to all things, he reminded himself.  Only the gods can design what the future will bring.  Mother of Mercy, be not dead to me.   

Author's Note

any feedback is appreciated, as always (: