There was something Lyruk noticed, the way his father tried to avoid the words God of Death, over and over, as if something about it was wrong, or that he preferred using a different name instead. It was one of the questions that wouldn't get answered, no matter how many times it was asked, like a secret oath to carry to the grave.
"Why were they fighting? Were those not regular humans?"
It seemed strange from the start. Why would there be a battle with just two whose lifetimes were insignificant to that of a God or Goddess?
"If only that were the case." Lybis considered his words for a quiet few seconds, debating if he should say anything at all. With yet another sigh, he told his son the ugly truth of it all, that is, in as simple words as possible. "That was their child, one of those boys."
"Their child?"
"The God's. And the Goddess's. Their child and another who was swept up into the curse with them."
As his piece was said, enough to satiate some of Lyruk's curiosities, Lybis turned to the door, preparing to leave.
"Stay here. I'll tell you more when I return."
"Father-"
"Lyruk," he stated firmly, cutting him off. "Please. Listen to me just this once."
For the first time since his father had grieved his mother's early passing, Lyruk saw a harsh and raw pain in Lybis's expression. In lieu of words that wouldn't come at the startling sight, he meekly nodded and stayed as his father closed the door behind him, the house silent.
At present, recalling those events of old, his eyes watched the dancing flames with solemnity. There were no tears, no anguish. He truly felt no pain in recalling those memories. They were simply unpleasant to both mind and heart.
"It's not worth recalling."
"Can you give us an idea of what it was like? Just so we're a little prepared?"
Lyruk sighed heavily, finally understanding his own father's non-verbal responses to his incessant and demanding questions over the years.
"The Goddess of Life showed up first, staying high on the hill. Waiting. They ran in the same time the God of Death showed his face," Lyruk stated calmly. "Then…"
He paused briefly, letting his words fall away as he remembered the reflection of the moon on a pool of red that had yet to soak into the dirt, the hands holding on even in death, and they way they both seemed to crumple limply to the ground after suffering such a painful crushing defeat that cost their lives.
"Then they killed them?"
With a nod, he answered them. "They were both boys," he added quietly as he gestured toward the fire with a hand, making the flames a deep purple color for a brief moment. It was his way to ward off the unpleasantness of the memory on his mind. His words settled in slowly.
"Is gender relevant?" Haq asked, letting out a sputtering laugh.
"The happenings of the world are odd. What one feels may not be what is seen," he replied cryptically.
The shock of getting a straight answer out of him fell away rapidly among the others. Riddles and Lyruk, in their eyes, were nearly one and the same with his usual amount of chatter. Normally, he only spoke in short sentences that were blunt and to the point, or in circles, voicing puzzling phrases that were left entirely open to interpretation while having a specific meaning only within his own mind.
"And what one sees," he continued solemnly. "It may change as time passes on."
Confused glanced were exchanged all around before Haq gave a half-hearted response.
"Alright?"
Lyruk's gaze flicked over to one individual above the crackling fire. Unnoticed by the others, his vision returned to the ground of sand and dirt beneath his boots.
There was a face, one he couldn't dare forget, even as the years passed by. Grief-stricken, bloodied and grimy from battle, it remained in his mind, the features as unforgettable as everything else plaguing his life.
Gender may not have mattered much, he thought to himself, as a life in a different time may result in a new body. And as his father told, only once had the two lived entirely separate lives without meeting a single time.
As much as they were destined to the same cycle of doom, it also appeared as though they were bound by other means, something entirely intangible, like that of star-crossed lovers in the clutches of a fatal fate, that of things both needed and forbidden.
Night became a new star-rise, questions remaining whole and unanswered from the campfire hours before.
Campfire extinguished and dismantled, they began the trek, deeper into the canyon.
They each took turns walking in front, shifting around to give knowledge to their less experienced comrade, that is, Nadia, who had never considered holding weapons for combat before.
"If you're defending, you'll want to hold it like this," Haq told her, showing her several movements before putting his dagger into her hand. He gently adjusted her wrist and arm to mimic the same motions before stepping away and observing her attempt them on her own.
"You're good at teaching defense."
A smaller genuine smile formed on his lips at the compliment.
"I've had plenty of good practice against tough opponents."
Nadia turned to him as his gaze drifted off to the side and back. Following his line of sight, she saw Abana, absentmindedly swinging her axe, twirling it, and then resting it on her shoulder again as though it weighed as much as a tiny twig.
Lyruk made quick work of another large Serpiscertis that crossed their path, incapacitating it with magic boosted by a staff he conjured out of thin air.
It was as tall as him, with a forearm length blade at the top, colored the same obsidian shade as the rest. Small silver gems were in a line down the middle of the flat sides. A deep purple raised line coiled around the staff. In the middle, just below where his hand rested, there was opening within the staff, a hole of sorts, that separated the width into two, curving it around the slim area in order to reform back into one and continue down to the base interrupted. In the gap sat three strings. Tightly strung like a banjo, parallel to the staff. Though in sunlight they shone white, in the reflected light off the moon, it glowed light blue.
Once the path was cleared, they began again.
As Abana was giving Nadia tips on battle, the differences to utilize in close combat versus distanced, they rounded another bend in the Canyon, only to stop at the sight ahead. This time, rather than a singular creature, there were two, and not of the same species.
One stood tall on horse-like legs with large hooves ready to trample and kick mercilessly on their prey. With a long spine and rounded body, all leading to a lizard-like tail, it stomped as much as wiggled forward, scales shimmering with the movement. A hawk-like neck and face, with eyes on the sides of their head, the creature would be able to spot attacks from nearly all angles like that of prey rather than predator. As well as a long sharp beak, it sported feathered wings, though not for long flights, it could boost itself off the ground to land hard on whatever it pleased. It was known as a Draequilae, a deadly combination of horse, dragon, and bird.
Next to it stood something much shorter and wider. With a whale shaped body and eight stout legs that resembled the build and assembly of the segmented legs holding a scorpion's body up, it eased itself forward with grace and ease, webbed feet and thick legs acting the movement rather than the entirety of its large frame. Its chin was a flat line with a mouth that opened in a similar manner to a frog. Red eyes bulging out the sides of the creature's face with dark horizontal pupils, gaze fixated on them, it lifted a long curved tail with a stinger at the end, prepared to strike.
A Balaranpius, a whale-frog scorpion, though out of their natural environment of water and humid heavy locations, was still quite a threat with very few weaknesses. The Draequilae held a high defense against anything related to magic, but the Balaranpius was entirely immune. Only a physical assault could cause any sort of damage. However, without one key element, taking it down could upwards of 30 minutes, even for powerful beings such as Haq, Abana, and the others.
As soon as Elavale spotted the two creatures in the distance, she burst into laughter.
"I don't think the Canyon likes you, Lyruk," she declared through shallow breaths.
Lyruk crossed his arms, his face unchanging at both the sight ahead and Elavale's comment. Nadia looked at him, then at Elavale who stood with hands on knees catching her breath, and then over at Haq and Abana who were both smirking but holding their own laughter.
It was clear this was something she was entirely out of the loop on.
"Why would you say that?" she asked, turning back to Elavale on her left.
"If your specialty is magic, like him," Elavale began, tilting her head toward Lyruk with a lopsided grin, "then these two are the worst opponents possible."
Rather than speaking, Lyruk merely took three even steps back and lazily gestured for the rest of them to work on clearing the path.
"Nuh-uh." Elavale said tugging his elbow and bringing him back to the line they'd unconsciously made. With firm resistance to his desire to sit out the next fight, she pointed a finger at the Draequilae. "Just because it's more resistant to damage from magic spells, that doesn't mean you're just going to stand and watch. At least distract it or blind it with light or something."
A heavy sigh left Lyruk, his eyes nearly rolling over in exasperation, he pulled his staff out once again, using his magic like a storage locker. It wasn't as though they truly needed his help to take it down. He supposed it would be more difficult considering there were two fortified opponents and one of their group was already not combat ready.
"We need fire. Can you get one started?" Haq asked Nadia after they sorted out who would take on each of the creatures. Abana was already readying her axe, but stopped to hear his plan with Nadia.
Hearing those words, Nadia froze, her face paling.
"What?" she managed to vocalize, albeit quietly.
"Fire is its weakness," he stated, turning to look at the nearby trees, eyeing the branches for one that looked straight and long enough to turn into a javelin quickly. "If we can light something on fire, it'll be over much faster."
Nadia nodded, half to him and partly to herself, telling both that she'd make the fire. Having divvied out the duties, both Haq and Abana sprung into action, leaving her standing there for a brief few seconds. The urgency registered and she began fervently gathering up small twigs and kindling, putting them into a pile and pulling out one of the oldest methods of fire from her pocket.
Frantic, hearing the sounds of intense fighting to her right, she glanced over while striking the small piece of steel against the rock-like flint. She jumped in place as she saw as much as felt the thunderous boom of the Balaranpius's tail strike down with enough force to split the ground and make a tiny crater where Abana had been just a few seconds before.
They were counting on her, she realized, though the thought itself was deeply unpleasant, that is, having the weight rest on her own shoulders for something she had little idea about. Lyruk was aiding Elavale against the Draequilae while Haq chucked rocks into the eyes of the other as Abana danced around it, causing minimal but effective damage to its legs and body, keeping it occupied so as to not let it aid the other creature. If they could eliminate the whale-like one, they could all focus on the tall one together.
Whether logic and rationality in a tense situation won out or failed entirely, Nadia ripped the glove off her hand and shifted her body slightly to the right, blocking the others from seeing what was in front of her. A dangerous move, to turn their back to a raging battle, and yet, the shaking of her body had nothing to do with what was behind her. It spawned from what she was about to do.
Though magic would not scratch the creature, that of natural elemental powers was something else to consider. Since it was instinct rather than conscious effort, it remained an exception to the rule of magic.
Essentially, elemental fire conjured up by someone with innate talent for it, was considered the same as a regular fire.
With a trembling hand, Nadia shoved her fingers into the meager pile of sticks and held her breath. a flicker of orange reflected on her irises as she palmed the spear Haq had chosen. In an instant, flames wrapped around the end of it, glowing as much as the symbol on her hand.