They gathered the remains of their fallen comrades, preparing them for a burial beneath the mounds of gold.
"Brother, I'll see you soon," Tamsin whispered, tears streaming down her face.
"I'll miss you all." Astrid choked with emotion.
They covered the bodies with gold and gems.
"Take as much as you can carry," the king instructed. "We'll need it for our journey."
They filled their bags and pockets with the treasure, their minds still reeling from the day's events. As they exited the tomb, the king paused, raising his head towards the sun. A look of anger crossed his face as he gazed upon the Dragon coiled around it.
"You will burn, Leviathan's spawn," he vowed, his voice cold and filled with an ancient hatred. "You have my word."
Cael lowered his glasses, his brown eyes fixed on the King. "Now what?"
"We go to Oakhaven," he replied, turning away from the rising sun. "We need supplies for the journey ahead."
"You know about Oakhaven?" Cael asked, surprised.
"Cael, lead the way," he instructed, his voice brooking no argument.
They set off through the Grey Mountains, a heavy silence blanketing the group. Cael could sense Ronan's unease, his instincts still wary of the powerful being who walked behind them.
As dusk approached, they reached the edge of the deep woods. Ronan turned to the immortal. "We should rest. The forest is dangerous at night."
The king nodded curtly, and they made camp. The crackling fire cast flickering shadows on their faces as they sat in silence, the weight of their encounter with the King still heavy upon them.
Cael, his curiosity burning brighter than the flames, raised his glasses and addressed the king, his eyes brown with a mixture of fear and fascination. "What is your name?"
The immortal smiled faintly. "You came to raid my tomb without even knowing my name?"
"Theron only told us you were The Ashen King," Cael admitted.
"I've been called many names in my long life. But you may call me Iskander, the last name I bore."
"Iskander?" Cael echoed, surprised. "That's a strange name for a king."
"It is a good name," Iskander replied simply.
Cael fell silent, unsure how to interpret the king's words. The Grave-Walker approached, offering the last of their provisions. "Here, my King. It's all we have."
Iskander shook his head. "I crave something stronger. Ale, perhaps."
"We only have water," the Grave-Walker replied apologetically.
"No matter. After my long slumber, all I desire is ale and women."
Astrid and Tamsin tensed, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons. Iskander sensed their apprehension. "I only desire women who desire me," he clarified, his gaze steady.
Cael saw an opportunity to steer the conversation away from potentially dangerous territory. His eyes turned yellow with curiosity. "King, I think it's time for some answers."
"Ask your questions," Iskander invited.
Cael's eagerness bubbled over. "Where are we going? What are you looking for? How can a shepherd boy like me help you?"
"Many questions," the king chuckled. "You may not understand all my answers, not yet."
"I want to know," Cael insisted.
"You need to know where we're going anyway," Iskander conceded. "But keep what you hear secret, or I will be forced to silence you."
The group exchanged nervous glances, and nodded in agreement.
"We head for the Green Hell first, to get my ConduitBand."
They were shook by his blunt answer. But Cael had something else he wanted to know. "I want to know about my cursed eyes," Cael began, "and what you meant by 'link'."
Iskander turned to him. "There is no curse, boy. Your eyes are a gift."
"A gift?" Cael echoed, his eyes turning green with disbelief.
"You may understand some of it, but not all," Iskander said, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. He gestured towards the night sky. "Look at the stars above."
Cael and the others raised their heads, their gazes drawn to the countless points of light scattered across the darkness.
"Each star is a sun, like the one that governs your day and night. And around each star, worlds orbit, some teeming with life, others barren. Many stars together form galaxies, and there are more galaxies than grains of sand on your entire planet."
Cael's mind struggled to grasp the vastness of it all. "Are you saying there are people living in the stars?"
"Yes," Iskander confirmed. "All of this is the cosmos, and it exists within the Reality Sphere. Everything is connected by a web of paths we call the CosmosPaths. We use them to travel across the sphere at unimaginable speeds."
"Paths in the sky?" Cael's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why can't we see them?"
Iskander chuckled. "Look around you. Every tree in this forest has roots that extend deep into the ground. Within these roots lives a fungus that connects them all, sharing nutrients and maintaining the balance of life. You cannot see it, yet the forest's existence is proof of its presence. The Anima, and CosmosPaths are similar."
"I still don't get it," Cael admitted, his eyes turning brown with frustration.
"You will, in time," Iskander assured him. "But for now, let's return to the cosmos. It would take eons to travel between galaxies, but using the CosmosPaths, the journey is instantaneous. Imagine traveling from Oakhaven to the far eastern seas in mere moments."
Ronan, his mind racing, grasped a crucial detail. "Are you saying you're not from this world?"
"Yes," Iskander confirmed. "Eons ago, I came here out of necessity, only to discover it was a Base Domain, devoid of Anima."
"Anima?" Astrid asked, her curiosity piqued.
"The Anima is the breath of existence, the energy that connects everything: void and existence, life and death, reason and madness, matter and soul. It's the breath of being. We harness it to perform feats you might consider miraculous, like bringing back the dead. However, in Base Domain like this, Anima is scarce, except within the CosmosPaths, where it is infinite. I need to open a VeinGate into the CosmosPaths to regain my full power, but I cannot do it alone."
Cael and the others stared at him, their expressions a mixture of confusion and awe.
"What do you need me for?" Cael asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"To drain the Dragon that circles your sun," Iskander said, his gaze steady.
"Drain it? Open what?" Cael's eyes widened, his mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of the task. "I don't even understand what you're saying! How can I possibly do that?"
"You have a connection to the Sun-Serpent. You've already drained my Anima; that's why I awoke. You used it to activate your abilities and find me. You can do the same with the Dragon; it's the closest source with enough Anima to open a VeinGate. Drain its Anima, and I will open a doorway to the CosmosPaths, allowing me to return home."
"I didn't know!" Cael exclaimed, his eyes still green with disbelief.
"Is this what we need to do to bring back my brother?" Tamsin asked, her voice filled with a desperate hope.
"Yes," Iskander replied simply.
"And where do we go after we get this… ConduitBand?" Ronan inquired, still trying to wrap his mind around everything he had learned.
"I'll reveal that when we have it," Iskander said, his voice cryptic.
"Tell me one more thing," Astrid pressed. "How do you know so much about us? And how can you speak our language?"
"I will refrain from revealing that for now. But know this: I will know everything you think and do."
Fear crept back into their hearts. Every secret, every thought, laid bare before this powerful being.
Ronan stood up, breaking the tension. "I'll take first watch. Cael, you take the second. The rest of you, sleep."
"I've slept enough," Iskander said, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames.
Ronan shrugged and walked away. As the others settled down to sleep, Cael and the King remained awake, the silence broken only by the crackling fire and the sounds of the night. Cael's mind raced, trying to process the enormity of what he had learned. He did not understand everything, but he knew Iskander needed his help to return home. And that knowledge sparked a flame of curiosity within him, a desire to learn more about the universe and the secrets it held.
As dawn approached, they broke camp and headed towards Oakhaven. Cael walked beside Iskander, peppering him with questions, while the others remained silent, still grappling with the implications of their encounter with the ancient king.
Upon reaching the town gates, Ronan turned to Iskander. "We're here."
Iskander nodded. "Ronan, procure eight horses for us and two more to carry supplies. You two," he said, addressing the archer sisters, "purchase a month's worth of provisions and new clothes." He turned to Grave-Walker. "And you, acquire weapons: swords, spears, bows, arrows, and knives. Spare no expense. You have three days. We meet here at dawn on the fourth day. And remember, tell no one about me. I don't want unwanted attention. Understood?"
They nodded, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
"Cael, come with me," Iskander said, and they set off into the town.
Iskander, his head covered by Rednar's green cloak, led Cael towards the Crimson Lantern, a well-known establishment catering to men seeking pleasure. The townsfolk stared at them, their gazes drawn to the bloodstains on Iskander's clothes and the unusual silver eyes that peered out from beneath his hood.
They stopped at a tailor's shop, where Iskander ordered two sets of identical black clothing, the finest the shop had to offer. Cael, who had never worn such fine garments before, felt a surge of gratitude.
As they walked, Ilya passed by, her eyes widening as she recognized Cael. A pang of longing shot through her, and she called out his name without thinking. Cael turned, his eyes turning blue with joy at the sound of her voice.
He yearned to speak to her, but the memory of her brother's threats and the social divide that separated them held him back. His eyes shifted to violet as sadness washed over him. He lowered his hand, forcing his feet to continue walking away, his heart heavy with unspoken words.
Iskander observed the exchange, his keen eyes noting the girl's dejection and the pain etched on Cael's face. He approached Cael as they walked away. "She's quite lovely. Are you sure you don't want to talk to her?"
"I don't," Cael replied curtly.
"It seems you're worried about the wrong things."
"She's better off without me."
"Cael, you could own a kingdom now if you wanted. Have you forgotten about the gold?"
"We still have a job to do," Cael reminded him.
"True, but..." Iskander trailed off, then changed the subject. "I'm thirsty. I'm going to the Crimson Lantern. You go home. Your parents would want to see you before we leave. And you have a promise to keep." He smiled, a rare display of warmth.
Cael's eyes lit up. He had been longing to see his parents, to share the news of their newfound fortune. He would finally be able to provide for them, to ensure their comfort and happiness.
"Will you allow it?" he asked, his eyes blue with hope.
"I'm ordering it. Go," Iskander said with a chuckle.
Cael thanked him and hurried home, leaving Iskander to his own devices at the Crimson Lantern, which remained closed for the next three days.
Cael arrived at his humble hut. He found his mother knitting by the window, her eyes filled with a quiet longing. She rushed to embrace him, her voice trembling with joy.
"My boy! How was the hunt?"
"It was good, Mother," he replied, holding her close.
"Where's your father?"
"In the stables," she answered, just as the old man came running in, his face beaming with excitement.
"That was fast!" he exclaimed, opening his arms for a hug.
"How was the hunt?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.
Cael smiled. "There was no hunt." He pulled out a purse overflowing with gems and gold coins. "I'll tell you what happened."
He recounted his version of events, omitting the details of Theron's death and Iskander's true nature. He told them of a scholar who needed his help and offered a generous reward, a story he knew they would accept.
He spent the next three days with his parents, sharing stories and laughter, his heart filled with a bittersweet joy. He had kept his promise, ensuring their comfort with the newfound wealth. As the fourth day dawned, he bid them farewell and returned to town, arriving at the eastern gate just before sunrise.
Ronan was there, preparing the horses. Two additional horses were laden with supplies and weapons.
"You're early," Ronan remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"I knew you wouldn't be the first," Cael teased.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world."
"I see the great Ronan has become a good follower," Cael said, pulling his friend into a hug. "How are your wounds?"
"I'm fine," Ronan replied, returning the embrace.
Astrid, Tamsin, and Grave-Walker joined them shortly after.
"You're all early," Cael observed.
"We're early birds," Astrid replied with a wink.
"It's unwise to be late for a job," Grave-Walker added.
"The sooner we finish, the sooner I see my brother again," Tamsin said, her voice filled with determination.
"I'm glad you're all here," Cael said. "But where's Iskander?"
Ronan recounted how he had discreetly observed Iskander during his stay at the Crimson Lantern, where he had indulged in the company of women and procured a slave to serve as their guide.
"He visited Master Elian?" Cael asked, his eyes turning green with surprise.
"Speaking of the devil..." Astrid trailed off as Iskander approached, his silver hair now braided in an intricate pattern.
"Where's the slave?" Ronan inquired.
"The guide?" Iskander asked. "I set him free."
"Why?" Ronan asked, bewildered. "I thought he was supposed to guide us."
"He is," Iskander replied calmly. "I already possess all his knowledge. Besides, there is nothing more despicable than slavery. People are born free. I abolished it during my reign. It's a shame to see it return."
A stunned silence followed his words. Despite their forced participation in his quest, they realized he trusted them enough to let them roam freely. They could have escaped, revealed his secret and the treasure, yet they had kept their word. His stance against slavery, a concept deeply ingrained in their society, left them speechless.
"You say that, but you forced us to come with you," Tamsin pointed out boldly, her voice laced with a hint of defiance.
The others held their breath, expecting the king's wrath, but Iskander merely smiled.
"I always offer a choice. In the tomb, I simply presented the optimal option. You could have chosen death, but you chose to follow me."
Tamsin, unable to argue with his logic, fell silent.
"Now that we've cleared that up, let's depart," Iskander declared.
As they rode out of Oakhaven, a sense of unease settled over them. And somewhere in the shadows, an unseen presence followed.