C?ran performed the final coup de grace on the last remaining … thing. He slid his sword out from the body, and it scraped along the animal’s broken bones. C?ran looked around the small battlefield and sighed, ‘We can’t live like this,’ he said to Atharron, ‘Too many dead. Too many have lost families and friends. And too many have had their lives ruined. If I knew they wouldn’t follow us, I’d suggest going somewhere else. Starting afresh.’
Atharron nodded, ‘Emigrating may still be the best thing to do, regardless.’
C?ran tore a small rag from one of the creatures and wiped the blood from his sword; ‘Gather the dead!’ he ordered, ‘Everyone is on grave digging duty and we will build a monument for the battle here. Burn the enemy and salt the ground. Curse their souls.’ He sheathed his sword and walked farther into the gorge, ‘If they even have them.’
He and Atharron followed the valley until it became too narrow for them both to comfortably walk side by side. Half a mile later, the ravine widened into a large round bowl with a small lake in the centre surrounded by a few rudimentary huts and one large stone building; each one blackened and falling down as bodies lay around the bowl; young and old alike.
C?ran surveyed the scene, and dropped to his knees. He absently felt a tear fall down his cheek, stopping as it reached his beard.
Atharron walked into the carnage, ‘It was a diversion,’ he said as he hung his head, ‘They are getting clever.’
C?ran heard the falling of wood as it tumbled from the wall of a hut. A young girl staggered from the opening. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen. It was strange how he didn’t recognise her. He knew everyone from the village.
The girl stumbled over to C?ran, limping with a leg that could not hold her weight. She fell into C?ran’s arms and looked up at him, ‘I did what I could,’ she said. Her voice was strong, but still showed a little grief that she held back; ‘Your sister, she was magnificent. She ordered all the women to gather the children into the huts and to form a circle around them. I used whatever power I could and we eventually defeated them, but only a few survived. They retreated into the caves.’
‘Atharron,’ C?ran said, looking in his lieutenant’s direction, ‘Get some of the men out here to carry the dead to the grave. I need to see to my people.’ He turned back to the girl, ‘Lead the way … sorry, what was your name?’
‘Galvahha.’
C?ran held Galvahha on her feet as she led him up the hill to a cave in the side of the bowl. They had hidden deep within so as not to be seen by any enemy. A clever tactic, but it made finding them difficult. He shouted out for them and eventually a few of the adults appeared, ‘Damariya!’ he shouted.
‘This way!’ said a voice in the darkness. He followed the sound until he found a small boy holding a torch. The light drowned everything in a pale orange hue; in the light, he saw the body of his sister lying against the wall of the cave, her middle covered in dark, red blood.
‘Damariya!’ he said, running towards her, leaving Galvahha to be tended by another girl. He dropped down to his knees and held his sister’s hand, but she didn’t move; ‘Mari, please. I’m here. We’re safe.’
‘I’m sorry,’ the boy said, ‘she died shortly after getting here. Not even Galvahha could save her.’
C?ran looked behind him at the girl, ‘Why? Who is she?’
‘She’s Afirian.’
‘She’s what?’ He dropped Damariya’s hand and walked over to Galvahha, ‘You have the power to heal,’ he said to her, pointing in his sister’s direction, ‘Use it.’
Galvahha looked down at the floor, ‘I can’t.’
C?ran grabbed her shoulders, 'Why not?'
Galvahha pushed him away, tears in her eyes, 'Because I've been sent to Earth as a mortal. I have some minor abilities, but healing is not one of them.'
'Why?'
She looked into his eyes, 'Because I would have wanted to use it. You are a leader, their chief, a king. Even you cannot deny that immortality for all would destroy everything you've created here.'
C?ran turned around and sighed, 'You may be right. But it doesn't mean I have to like it.'
'You think I do? Being suddenly powerless to stop suffering when one once had that ability is not a pleasant experience.'
C?ran nodded in defeat and walked back to his sister.
*
C?ran supervised the cleanup, even pitching in to help dig graves, or to rebuild houses. Even before I stumbled from that hut, I knew him to be a good king. I'd heard tales of him, I'd witnessed his transformation from vagabond to leader, seen him settle down and build a community.
But he could be so much more. The Fates had given him a gift, but he would need to give the world a legacy before he could receive it. I knew my task, but he had to make the choice with no guidance from me.
*
C?ran looked up to the edge of the bowl and saw his men digging. He ordered them to position the graves to face the rising Sun, so they would remember their ancestry in the East. All of these people followed him across the waves to an unknown place for an unknown reason. They were fools; but so was he. It was a dream that led him here; but they all wanted away from the wars, so they believed as strongly as he did. It was a message from God. This land itself was a gift from God. It had just been left alone so long it was now infested with parasites.
‘Perhaps they would have been safer back home,’ Galvahha said beside him.
‘So, you leave behind your gift of healing, but keep your skill at reading thoughts?’ C?ran said, a little scorn in his voice.
‘It wasn’t my decision. Soon, someone may be sent who is allowed to keep that ability, but that is not now.’
C?ran turned to face Galvahha, ‘Then why are you here? What is your purpose?’