Chapter 15: Echoes in the Flame
The soft grass at the base of the mountain was still damp with dew, but Orvae barely felt it. Blood trickled down his thigh where the bullet had torn into him, and his breath was shallow. Merab lay not far from him, eyes closed, whispering the last of her spell to stabilize the teleportation. Beside them, Amintoro was motionless.
Bravae, unconscious moments ago, stirred and coughed. The sword lay nearby, cool and dark once more, its brilliant orange glow extinguished.
"We made it..." Merab whispered.
Orvae dragged himself to Amintoro's side. The old man was breathing, but barely.
"Granddad? It's me. It's Orvae. We're back in the mountains. You're safe."
Amintoro's eyes fluttered open, cloudy and unfocused. "Orvae..."
"Yes, I'm here. Don't talk too much. We'll get you help. We'll get the healers."
Amintoro coughed and tried to smile. "Too late for that, boy. This body has done all it can."
Orvae clenched his teeth, shaking his head. "No. You've survived worse. Remember when you broke your leg and still ran the harvest with one crutch?"
The old man chuckled weakly. "Those were easier wounds. This one's too deep. My spirit knows it."
Bravae struggled to sit up nearby, leaning on a stone. He watched silently as Orvae bent lower to his grandfather.
Amintoro reached for something beneath his robe. A silver necklace dangled in his trembling hand. At the center was a small, circular medallion made of polished obsidian.
He pressed it into Orvae's palm.
"Break this... when the time comes."
Orvae frowned. "When? What does that mean?"
Amintoro's hand tightened. "You'll know. When the world tilts too far into shadow. When your heart knows it must. The necklace will answer."
Tears brimmed in Orvae's eyes. He tried to speak, but words tangled in his throat.
Amintoro closed his eyes again. "I'm proud of you, boy. I always knew you'd carry fire in your heart."
The final breath left him like a wind fading from the mountain's edge. His chest stilled.
For a moment, the forest was quiet—only the soft rustle of trees and the distant chirp of birds welcomed the dawn.
Orvae wept silently, clutching the necklace.
Later that day, as the sun hung low and orange above the western ridge, the others had begun recovering. Bravae had found his strength, though the fatigue in his eyes spoke of deeper wounds. Merab brewed herbs in a small pot over the fire, treating Orvae's leg.
That was when Gbavamy and Indumae returned.
Their presence was like a sudden storm. Indumae landed with his cloak sweeping behind him, his wolf-like eyes scanning the camp. Gbavamy was calmer, but his face turned to stone the moment he saw the wounded.
"What happened?" Indumae asked.
Merab rose to her feet, weariness in every movement. "They captured Bravae. Amintoro was shot. He... he didn't make it."
A heavy silence followed.
Indumae closed his eyes briefly, muttering a prayer to the old gods.
Gbavamy knelt beside Amintoro's covered body, placing a hand over the man's chest.
"A warrior, even in old age," he whispered.
Indumae turned sharply to Bravae and Orvae. "How did they find you?"
Orvae recounted everything—Deiamy, Larwan's betrayal, the explosion of fire, and Sir Brian.
Indumae's face darkened at the mention of Brian.
"You mean he had dark hair and wore a black armour"
He asked.
"Yes he was very tall, very menacing and unrelenting in his attacks"
orvae said.
"He propelled himself with strange contraptions, didn't he?"
"Yes he is one of the strangest braunians i've ever seen"
Merab said.
Indumae paused before sitting down in a melancholy fashion.
"Yes I've heard of him,Brian of Thorne, a ruthless member of the panamfuan order of King thrane I, he led the squad to capture and execute sir excovae some 8 years ago, he's a very dangerous individual you guys are lucky to have survived him"
"He nearly killed Merab," Bravae added, voice hoarse. "And I— I lost control. The sword... it took over. I couldn't stop."
"That is why we must leave," Gbavamy said. "The Pylae need to see you both. Only they can teach you what the sword is truly capable of."
Merab looked between the boys. "We have to go to Mandove. It's the only way to understand what's coming. The empire will not rest after what happened at the moat. You humiliated them. They'll come back stronger."
Orvae still sat beside his grandfather's body, quiet.
"Will we be safe there?" he asked.
"Nowhere is safe," Indumae said. "But the Pylae can prepare you. If you stay here, they will find you. And you won't survive the next time."
Bravae stood slowly. "I'll go."
Orvae looked at the necklace again, held tightly in his hand. Then nodded. "Me too."
Gbavamy bowed his head. "Then we leave tomorrow."
Night came with an uneasy calm. Merab and Gbavamy built a small shrine for Amintoro near the mountain's edge, lighting a ceremonial torch in his honor. Songs were sung in the old tongue. Prayers whispered. Even the stars seemed quieter.
Bravae stood apart from them as the others rested. The moon had risen high when he finally turned toward the forest path.
He needed to see her.
He crept quietly through the trees until he reached the base of the hill that led to Symphymi's cottage. A few chickens clucked quietly in their pen. The small windows of the cottage glowed dimly with the warmth of a single lamp.
He knocked softly.
The door creaked open after a moment. Symphymi stood there, bundled in a shawl. Her face was thinner, and the skin beneath her eyes had darkened with illness.
"Bravae?"
He stepped forward and gently placed a wrapped bundle in her hands.
"I found something. Medicine. It should ease the pain."
Her hands trembled slightly as she accepted it.
"You look tired," she said, squinting up at him. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
Bravae chuckled faintly. "Nothing I can explain in one night."
She ushered him inside, and he helped her sit. They shared a few spoonfuls of broth she'd kept warm. He told her fragments of his journey—not the battles or the blood, but the feelings. The fear. The fire. The confusion.
She listened without judgment.
"I always knew there was something different in you," she said softly. "But I didn't think it would lead to this."
He nodded. "Neither did I."
She touched his hand. "Thank you for the medicine. You've already done more than enough."
"You raised me," he whispered. "And I never said thank you. Not properly."
She smiled and leaned back, resting her head against the wooden frame of the bed. "Then say it again tomorrow. I'm too tired to appreciate it tonight."
Bravae stood, tucking the blanket tighter around her. She was already asleep.
He stood by the doorway, watching her chest rise and fall. A calm had come over her face. For the first time in years, she looked peaceful.
He stepped outside into the chill of the night.
The stars above shimmered.
He looked back one last time.
He didn't know if he would ever see her again.
Then he turned and walked into the darkness, toward the future waiting in the sands of Mandove.