Several days of travel and snooping proved to be exhausting, but my hunch seemed accurate. Each person we spoke to about the supposed Child of Calamity had the story ending the exact same way: The King’s lands had been burnt to cinders to make way for a monument for Tavuk’s father, and though the land never fully burned—the being’s sightings picked up not long after its construction 40 years ago. The village closest to a river used for small transport right before the cave held the most stories by word-of-mouth; describing the being as a man whose eyes were red like fresh blood, and spoke in broken Otlank. He seemed to be a ruthless creature, hiding in shadows and relishing the suffering of other living beings. There were a couple of stories about a more compassionate creature of the same description that left us confused as to which side we may get.


    The men and I argued at least once a day about if my suspicions were correct, until we crossed the river and entered the woods. Everything seemed normal enough, as the woodland creatures scurried about the ground and trees. I almost felt my confidence waiver, until we reached a particularly quiet part of the woods. The quietness didn’t seem natural, and I didn’t quite remember it from three years ago—but the man I was back then was almost entirely different. I probably hadn’t really noticed the quietness that glamoured these parts of the woods, since I placed far less importance on my life than I should have.


    The only thing that pulled me from the deep thoughts of the bitter young man I used to be was the sound of Alfahd as his breathing sputtered. I looked behind me, noticing the man wiping his eyes and holding back sobs.


    “What is it, Alfahd?” I asked, slowing Riah’s trot.


    “I just…it feels like someone told me that my son died…” he choked.


    All of the men around me seemed depressed—it wasn’t just me.


    “Men, don’t falter. Stay present.” I warned.


    All of us continued walking towards the property, feeling the painful emotions grow stronger as the palace’s rooftop could be seen in the distance. 15 kilometers, we were about that far now. Even our horses seemed to grow more alarmed by the shift in emotions, whinnying as they trotted along the path. It was as Buma’s horse spooked that I laid eyes on it: the cave.


    “Over there.” I said, narrowing my eyes on its entrance. It was overgrown, and eerie. I unsheathed my sword as we grew closer, cutting at the brush that had overtaken the entryway.


    Alfahd had to stop his horse entirely, taking deep breaths and talking to Buma about different surroundings and stimuli that filled his senses. Was I really that hardened, now? Was I that hardened, back then? The other men seemed to deal with the energy coming from the cave with a grimace, though not as severely affected as Alfahd. My body was fine, save for remembering the last time I was here. I left the men outside, having taught them the bird call to listen for a few days ago. As I stepped into the abyss before me, a deep sense of alienation overwhelmed me; a thick musk of Hazel filled my lungs, nearly suffocating me. I was unwelcome in my new surroundings.


    “I know you’re in here, wretch.” I called. “Do you remember me from three years ago?” I asked.


    Stronger, more poignant emotions overwhelmed me as I was reminded of who I was back then. A bitter smile escaped my lips as the being tried to scare me off.


    “Reveal yourself. I know of the lands you overran with greed, and I know of the being you’ve become.”


    No response.


    “I know of the contracts—I’ve come to make a deal.”


    Bingo.


    I felt the darkness grow heavier; stickier in my lungs, more difficult to walk through.


    “Had I known you’d be back, I’d have brought a housewarming gift, Illuminated One.” A cacophony of voices tormented me, trying to intimidate me. They sounded as if they were screaming and whispering; laughing, and crying.


    “I have two new titles now?” I asked facetiously.


    “I sense the darkness in your heart, human. One step down the wrong path and you’ll be as doomed as I.” The voices told me.


    “I’m not here to discuss my steps in life, Bròn.” I spoke firmly. The darkness grew even heavier. “I’ve come to make a deal.” I repeated.


    “And what have you for I?” The voices beckoned slowly.


    “Land, fraught with life and splendor. The sorrow of generations to come, to feed your evergreen hunger.”


    The being fed right from the palm of my hand, taking the exact route I’d hoped it would, albeit with a bit of a twist. All bark, no bite.


    “Generations…to come?” The voices asked with an allured drone. “How many?”


    “It depends on fate’s dice.” I replied. “At the very least, three—at most, more.”


    The voices chuckled and cried as the darkness grew lighter. A shadowy apparition appeared before me, red eyed—like fresh blood.


    “How may I be…of service?” The voice asked hungrily.


    A wave of triumph washed over me as I repeated the phrase to myself: All bark, no bite. All bark, no bite. All bark, no bite.


    “There lives a woman in the palace just past the tree line. I need to know if she lives.” I announced, and the eyes narrowed on me.


    “That is all?” The voices asked, disbelief lining their cadence. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    “I ask that you offer insight on her whereabouts, and if necessary: alert the residents of the land you are to live on should she ever need help.” I requested.


    The eyes bobbed, as if nodding in response to my request. Then, they squinted, as if smiling.


    “Child of…Blessings…Harbinger of…Misfortune…” the voices seemed to toy with me. Was this what it meant by ‘Illuminated One?’ The names seemed based off of Otlak’s religion, a multi-theistic way of living alongside nature and karma. I understood little about the religion, following one God myself. I shook my head with a grin, crossing my arms and believing the Child of Calamity to be a Fiid of sorts.


    “Enough games. Tell me of the woman. I will be outside of the cave when you return, I’m well-read on your tricks.” I informed the entity.


    It almost…laughed at me, had it not been for the sobs erupting from the laughter. It was haunting, and I wondered if the other men outside of the cave could hear it. I turned on my heels and headed for the exit of the cave, freezing as it spoke again.


    “Fakhlah…torazeh?” The entity said in a scared voice—a feminine voice—Hala’s voice. It mimicked her perfectly, sending a deep shudder down my body that took everything in me to hide. I masked the panic growing inside of me once more as the doubtful voice filled my ears.


    “Go on, then, bring me the owner of that voice.” I taunted, playing its game back at it.


    Another chuckle mixed with sobs, making me bristle.


    ————————————————————————————————————


    Bròn returned, but he was in a human form. The only thing distinguishing him from a regular Otlakian man was his red eyes, and robe from a different time period. His face was riddled with horror as he returned to us. The notoriously heartless being seemed filled with concern, pained and distressed. It seemed that God favored us that day.


    “Yer not gonna believe it, Lad.” He said meekly. He spoke broken Otlank, with a thick accent I’d never heard.


    I assumed the worst, shooting up from the rock beneath me and approaching him. The other three men seemed confused by the man’s appearance, though they listened as he spoke on.


    “I ain’t seen anythin’ worse since Strolgia’s founding…she’s minced meat, Lad. If ya don’t have a plan to get ‘er out—I’ll do it, free of charge.” He said, sighing shakily.


    “What is he talking about…?” Buma asked, looking at me with an attentive eye.


    “I’m not sure…Bròn, what are you talking about?” I asked him.


    The three men familiarized themself with the name, looking at the immortal with steeled resolves as I braced myself for something unimaginable.


    “That Duke’s torn ‘er to shreds. I don’t usually give a shite about humans, but by Gods she looked like a Fae’s nail file in there…” he said exasperatedly.


    “You said you’d do something free of charge—do it!” Alfahd said, his voice strapped with fear.


    “I ain’t makin’ a deal with you.” Bròn hissed as he looked at me. “I’m makin’ a deal with ‘im!”


    I froze for a split second, completely wordless as I did nothing but shake my head.


    “Do it…” I finally replied. “Get her out.”


    ————————————————————————————————————


    I’d never been more fear-stricken—more enraged—in my entire life than the moment I laid eyes on Hala as she laid in Bròn’s arms. She was so frail, so weak, that I almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair and clothing were pristine, but she was so thin that I nearly broke down crying. Her face was twisted in pain, seeming to be under a spell of sorts that kept her asleep long enough to make it into the clearing all these kilometers away.


    “There’s a decoy of ‘er back in the palace. I gotta stay here for three days until the funeral’s over—Powers That Be said so.” He said with the ghost of a grimace on his face.


    Even though the immortal hadn’t made a deal with me, he’d made a deal with someone to get her back to us alive. I gave Bròn a silent ‘thank you’ in the form of a nod, taking the Princess in his arms. I didn’t have time for questions. Just as the sun began to set, Hala stirred in my arms. Bròn waved his hand just above her forehead, and her cheeks became a bit more full of life as her eyes fluttered open. She looked around, her eyes wide as they could go, before nearly screaming out in fear. I clamped a hand to her mouth reflexively, fearful of our status being known, and spoke to her in a hushed tone to quiet her.


    “Princess, you’re okay.” I murmured, unable to utter her name. She looked nothing like herself, so I used her title instead. She struggled as much as her tiny body could muster, before the crying started. Her shoulders shook, and the Child of Calamity looked exasperatedly from me to her.


    “I can’t do anythin’ else right now, Lad. The decoy’s got half my power. It’s ‘er back that’s botherin’ her…That’s you.” He said defeatedly.


    The other three men looked from her to me as I stood, powerlessly holding my hand to her mouth as she sobbed in shudders. I felt horrible, unsure as to if she had any clue as to what was going on. She’d raise her arms every so often, shuddering the moment they lifted more than a few inches, causing more pained wails to erupt from her. I had to bring her somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t so close to the palace so I could try to explain the situation to her.


    “I’m sorry, Princess…” I murmured in Mahsulah as I walked to the horses. I struggled to keep her cries quiet as I stood beside Riah, the men I brought following suit and mounting their horses.


    “You have to try…try to breathe. You’re close enough to the palace right now that a guard could hear you. Do you understand?” I asked, switching to Otlank. I wasn’t sure if she spoke Mahsulah at all during her time away—and I couldn’t depend on Bròn’s single phrase in her voice to gauge whether or not she was fluent anymore. Hala nodded stiffly as I asked my question, unable to look up at me. I looked to Alfahd, my eyes wide with worry.


    “The town further east. Go there on Saerie’s horse, and meet us 20 kilometers to the southwest. I promise, you’ll find us. Bring medical supplies—lots of bandages.” I urged him. Alfahd nodded and the two switched horses. He wasted no time as his horse broke into a fast gallop, squeezing her with his legs on instinct.


    “Try to stay quiet.” I told Hala in a way that resembled my old self more than I’d hoped, almost snapping at her entirely. She nodded as I mounted my horse, biting back the groans she wanted so desperately to release.


    Shit, shit, shit. I thought.


    I felt my hand grow tackier as the Riah galloped as fast as she could with two people on her back. I looked down at my hand for a breath: red. Fresh blood.


    Shit, shit, shit, shit.


    I had to truly bite back my frustration for the first time in years, feeling my heartbeat in my throat as I lead the members of the Sixth Battalion to a spot I’d found some years ago. A small grove that had been burnt down, completely open save for a behemoth tree whose core had burnt—though its bark still remained. I was going to make sure she was safe this time, far enough away from anyone dangerous so that she wouldn’t be heard if she cried out.


    We approached the remnants of the grove, where trees had slowly begun to sprout up from the cinders it had been left in. I slowed Riah to a trot, and stopped her just as we reached the hollow trunk. With Hala secure in my arms, I dismounted the horse as the other men slowly caught up with us.


    “It’s okay, now.” I said, speaking in as calm a voice I could muster. “You’re safe, he can’t get you anymore.”


    A shrill, bone-shattering cry erupted from Hala’s lips as I held her close to my chest. I couldn’t do anything but hold back my own tears as I heard it, feeling the fluid in my eardrums vibrate as she yowled out like an injured big cat.


    “I know…I know…” I whispered to her. “You’re safe, now.” Was all I could muster before my own voice broke.


    Shit, good job, Idris.