Beginning of Part 3
Some days before, on the Island of first hell
The air on the island was unbreathable.
The first portal of hell rose behind us, a vertical gash with red edges that pulsed like a sick heart. The smell of sulfur, of blood, of death, burned in my lungs with every breath. The ground, black and cracked, smoked beneath my boots. The sky, dark red, had no stars. No moon. Nothing.
"The boat," said Lindériu, pointing to the small vessel tied to a rock. "Let's go."
Zirinos did not answer. Enyo, on his shoulder, squeaked softly. The creature, still fragile, trembled. He touched her head.
"Be quiet," he whispered. "We're getting out of here."
They moved away from the portal. The boat was small, of dark wood, with a brown sail and a broken oar. Lindériu climbed in first. Zirinos pushed the vessel into the water and jumped.
The sea, black and agitated, beat against the hull with a dull sound. The cold wind blew from the north.
"How many hours?" asked Zirinos.
"Until Lunos? A day. Maybe two."
"The coast?"
"The coast. Then, on foot."
Lindériu raised the sail. The wind filled the cloth. The boat moved away from the island, leaving behind the smell of sulfur and the red gash that shone in the darkness.
Zirinos sat on the prow, his legs stretched out, Enyo on his lap. The creature, now calmer, looked at the horizon with red eyes.
"Where did you learn to sail?" asked Lindériu.
"In war. In flight. In necessity."
"You didn't answer."
"There is no answer. Only facts."
The saint did not insist.
The boat sailed for hours. The black sea showed no fish. No life. Only waves and silence.
"The second sun," said Lindériu, pointing at the dark sky. "Who was that man? He talked about you."
"Did he?." Zirinos could feel rage burning inside of him.
"The masked one? Yes, he told my king to not 'play' with you, since you are his toy."
"Ether, that's his name. Now I remember: his brother destroyed an entire world, and here I thought that story was fake. He is, too, the man who sent me to this world and the man who killed my father."
"Why?"
"To punish me? I'm not sure. But maybe is because of my mission"
Lindériu clenched his fists.
"He did this just for a stupid mission? What is even that so called mission?"
"He wants me to destroy this world."
"That's impossible. Not even Macano can do this!." He laughed.
"Believe what you want.."
Silence settled. The wind outside howled.
Enyo, on Zirinos's lap, squeaked.
"Are you going back? I mean, to your world?" asked Lindériu.
"I am. To Lunos. To Decatry. To the academy. And, in the end, to my world."
"The Pope..."
"The Pope knows everything. The Pope saw and did nothing."
"I wasn't talking about the vision, I mean, don't worry, he'll do nothing to stop you. But you can be sure that i will stop you if you actually try to destroy everything. Not like you could, but a man never knows."
"Very well. When the time comes, I'll try to kill you first. Good luck."
Lindériu looked at him. His tired green eyes fixed on his, and, then, extended his hand to his.
"I'll gladly accept my death, when it comes to me."
+++
The coast of Lunos appeared on the horizon at dawn.
The melted snow mixed with mud, and the black cliffs rose against the gray sky. The first sun, pale and sad, was barely visible behind the low clouds.
Lindériu beached the boat on a deserted shore. The dark sand was covered with dry seaweed and broken shells.
"We disembark," said the saint.
Zirinos jumped. His boots sank into the wet sand. Enyo, frightened, buried her face in his neck.
"Are we in Lunos?" he asked.
"We are. The north coast. Linda's castle is two days' walk away."
"Then let's go."
They walked.
---
The villages, once full of life, were now skeletons of stone and burnt wood. The doors, broken. The windows, empty. The wells, dry. The smell of smoke and death hung in the air like a black cloud.
"What happened here?" asked Lindériu.
"Fear. Hunger. War."
"The war hasn't arrived yet."
"It has. In the hearts of men."
Lindériu did not answer.
At dusk, they saw the first refugees. They came from the north, in small groups, dragging children and belongings in wooden carts. Their clothes, torn. Their faces, pale. Their eyes, empty.
"What happened?" Lindériu asked a woman carrying a baby in her arms.
"Hell," she replied, her voice trembling. "Hell opened. The demons came out. They killed the men. They took the children."
"How many?"
"Many. Hundreds. Thousands. I don't know."
Lindériu clenched his fists.
"Where are the soldiers?"
"The soldiers died. The knights too. Only we remain."
The woman continued walking. The baby cried.
Zirinos looked north. The dark horizon seemed heavier than the day before.
"Let's go," he said to Lindériu.
"Let's go."
They quickened their pace.
---
Night fell when they reached the first inhabited village.
It was called Arui. It had about two hundred houses, a small church, and a central square where the peasants gathered to mourn the dead. The smell of blood and burning mixed with the smell of bread and fear.
"The Contraranures," said Lindériu. "They attacked three days ago."
They entered the village. The people looked at them with wide eyes. Some recognized Lindériu – the holy warrior, the hero of Aryster. Others looked at Zirinos, at his gold-and-blood hair, and stepped back.
"Liar," whispered a woman.
"Rapist," added a man.
"Murderer," murmured a child.
Lindériu looked at Zirinos.
"Aren't you going to answer?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because they're right. And you already know that."
They walked.
---
The church was open. Inside, candles lit, benches empty. The priest, a thin man with a graying beard, knelt before the altar, praying in a low voice.
"Father," called Lindériu. "Can we stay the night?"
The priest raised his head. His deep, tired eyes fixed on Zirinos.
"The hero," he said. "The liar."
"The survivor," replied Zirinos. "It's the same thing."
The priest did not answer. He only pointed to the benches.
"You can stay. God's house is for everyone."
"Even for monsters?" asked Lindériu.
"Especially for monsters."
They sat down.
Enyo, on Zirinos's shoulder, squeaked.
The priest prayed.
The silence outside continued.