Chapter Thirteen
The game was a disaster of flailing limbs and mud, but for an hour, the terror was forgotten.
As Siurad lay by the campfire, gazing at the sleeping children, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of satisfaction. They had spent half the day frolicking around the prairie, and the exhaustion was the good kind, heavy, warm, and earned. They were all tuckered out, drifting into sleep without a single protest.
Obi, true to form, was the ultimate Negative Nancy. A real professional in the art of pessimism. But tonight, it didn't bother Siurad one bit. The ancient voice’s logic was infallible, as usual: “You have wasted daylight. You have added half a day’s journey to the trip.”
But it was worth it. Siurad got to see them just be children for a moment, no worries, no fears, just glee. Truth be told, he thought, staring into the flames, he needed it more than they did.
The moon shone through the canopy, illuminating the campsite in silver and grey. The only sounds were the rustling leaves, the rhythmic chirping of crickets, and the Kitsune lawn mower incarnate. She was a snorer, a timber sawing, ground shaking snorer, and it was a problem Siurad would deal with at a later date.
She showed her true form for the children today, he thought. That's no small task. I'll cut her some slack for tonight.
Watching the embers pulse, he saw Mara approach. She moved silently, timid at first, before plopping down on the grass beside him.
“How's it going?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “Everything all right?”
“For the most part,” she whispered, her eyes reflecting the dying fire. “I just wanted to say thank you. The others are younger, so they might not get it, but I… I understand that sometimes bad things happen. And today wasn’t bad.”
Siurad blinked, taken aback. She was no more than thirteen or fourteen, yet she carried a weariness that belonged to someone three times her age.
“Don't worry about it. You're the lil’ homie. It's the least I could do.”
“Lil’… homie?” She scrunched her nose, unsure of the foreign words.
Siurad sighed, remembering where he was. “It means you're my little friend. My ally. So, tell me about yourself, Mara.”
The curiosity on the girl's face vanished, replaced instantly by a hollow look. Siurad knew immediately he’d made a tactical error. Before he could pivot the conversation, Mara began to pick at a loose thread on her tunic.
“Not much to say.” She pulled the thread tight. “I’m thirteen. I think. I don't remember much before I was seven. That was when I was taken. I was saved at nine, and put in an orphanage.”
She paused, staring hard at the fire as if reading a script in the coals. “But they ran out of coin. They said there wasn't enough bread for the big kids. So the oldest of us were sent to Ravenwood. We were supposed to go to a new home there.”
Her voice went flat. “We never made it. When people don't have funds, or if you present too many problems... the adults stop caring. I was sold again. Moved around. Passed along until you found me.”
A somber, fragile smile touched her lips. “I remember a mother. A father. A brother. But that feels like a dream now. We were attacked and split up. That’s how I got caught the first time.”
Siurad felt his heart cracking. The world was vast, and yet it seemed intent on crushing the smallest things in it.
“Well,” Mara said, her voice dropping to a steel whisper. “I don't have any family left. But I want you to teach me magic.” She looked over at the sleeping pile of children. “So that I… so that we never have to be helpless again.”
He didn't ask what she meant. The pit in his stomach told him he already knew.
“Mara, they are your family,” Siurad said, gesturing to the sleepers. “And I am your family now. I won't give up on you. I will make sure you're safe. I promise.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “And as far as magic goes… look, I barely know what I’m doing. I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing is even magic and I got a guy… person… thing, living in my head. He needed my help, so I’m helping him. He taught me what little I know, and trust me, I am not qualified to be a teacher.”
“But–,” he started to say.
She looked down, her shoulders slumping. A tear welled in the corner of her eye, catching the firelight.
'...THIS ONE IS CHAOTIC,' Obi’s voice pulsed in Siurad’s mind, suddenly sharp and alert. '...SHE' MAY HAVE THE AFFINITY.'
Siurad groaned and got to his feet. “Fine. You little stinker. Let's see what we can do.”
They moved to the tree line at the edge of the camp, where the firelight struggled to reach. The darkness here felt heavier.
“Okay,” Siurad said. “Obi, my friend, told me to open the void, aim, and concentrate. That was garbage advice. It didn't help me at all. What did help was… feeling the connection. Asking it’s permission.”
Siurad raised his hand. The darkness between the tree roots seemed to shiver and lift, swirling around his palm like black smoke. “Once I feel I got the okay, the shadow spike forms. Then I just launch it like a spitball.”
Mara watched him with wide, unblinking eyes.
“Watch.”
The shadow spike hissed through the air, impaling a tree trunk with a dull thud. It held its form for three seconds, a jagged lance of solid night, before dissolving into mist, leaving a deep, splintered hole in the wood.
“Now you try,” he said. “Don't think about power. Feel for the dark. It'll get… cold that's normal though.”
Mara stepped toward a different tree. She raised her palm. She stood for a long moment, trembling with effort, but the night remained still. She dropped her hand, frustration etched on her face.
“Can I try again?”
Siurad sighed. “Sure thing, kid.”
'...MANIFEST THE SHADOW FOR HER,' Obi commanded, the ring on Siurad’s finger pulsing against the bone.'...THIS ONE IS I ATTUNED, AN INTERESTING VARIABLE. BE HER VALVE.'
“Okay, how the hell do I do that?” Siurad muttered.
'...GRAB HER WRIST OPEN THE GATE.'
Siurad stepped up behind her and gently grasped her forearm. He closed his eyes, pulling on the sensation he had become so familiar with, the cold, viscous current of the void. He pushed it down his arm and into hers.
In her small palm, the shadows began to coalesce. They swirled, knitting together into a small, unstable sphere.
“What the…” Siurad whispered in awe.
'...THIS ONE'S ATTUNEMENT IS HIGH,' Obi said, a smug resonance in his voice that made Siurad’s teeth ache.
He let go of her arm. The shadows held for a split second longer before dispersing into wisps. Mara cried out, stomping her foot.
“Hey, hey! No reason to be upset,” Siurad said quickly. “You actually did a really great job. Better than me. I had to be almost murdered to get it to work the first time. You're leagues ahead, kiddo.”
“One more time,” Mara said. It wasn't a request.
“Okay, but this is the last one,” Siurad said, yawning.
Mara raised her hand, eyes darting from the damage Siurad had caused back to her own target. She closed her eyes, visualizing. The air around her hand began to cool.
“Siurad! What in the hells are you doing?!”
The shout shattered the concentration. They both jumped, spinning around.
Yona was standing ten feet away, arms crossed, half illuminated by the dying fire. She was looking at Siurad with a mixture of disbelief and disgust.
“She wanted to learn magic,” Siurad stammered. “I was just… showing her the ropes.”
Yona marched over, grabbed Siurad by the sleeve, and pulled him a few paces away from the girl.
“Siurad,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “I know you mean well. But you cannot teach a traumatized child that. You are putting her, and everyone around her, at risk. You can barely control it! How do you expect her to?”
Siurad opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat. He looked back at Mara, who looked small and frightened in the gloom.
“She told me she was helpless,” he whispered back. “She wants the power to stop bad things from happening. Yeah, she’s young, but if she can protect herself, then so the fuck what?”
“Cool,” Yona said, her voice terrifyingly calm.
“So tell me, Siurad. What happens when that child gets into a standard argument with another kid? Or when she gets angry at you? You are handing a loaded weapon to a girl who doesn't know how to process her own grief. Shadow-spiking people for trivial things will lead her to an early grave. Do you want that on your conscience?”
Siurad stared at her. The logic was sound. Cold, but sound.
“Look,” he said, rubbing his temples. “Can we just talk about it tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”
Yona held his gaze for a second longer, then nodded. She shot a worried glance at Mara before returning to her bedroll near the children.
Siurad walked back to Mara, who was waiting anxiously.
“Look, I… I probably shouldn't be trying to teach you this right now,” he said gently. “Yona has a point. It’s dangerous. But… maybe tomorrow, I'll ask her to help train you with a dagger. Basic self defense. But you can only use it on those trying to hurt you. Promise me.”
Mara hesitated, then nodded. The adrenaline of the lesson faded, leaving her swaying on her feet. Within moments of sitting back down, she was out like a light, her head listing until it rested against Siurad’s shoulder.
He didn't move her. He just sat there, wondering if this constant worry was what parenthood felt like.
Obi, Siurad projected his thought, staring into the dark. I'm writing checks my ass can't cash. I promised her I'd keep her safe, and I don't think I can. I'm... I'm feeling rather inefficient.
Obi was silent for a long time. When he finally replied, the arrogance was gone. His voice was quiet, resonant, and heavy with the dust of centuries.
'...THERE WAS ONCE A MORTAL NAMED RAIMI WHO TOLD ME SOMETIMES HUMANS DO WHAT THEY MUST. AND WHEN IT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH THEY DO THEIR BEST.'
A cold pulse radiated from the ring. A sensation like a forgotten sigh.
'...A MOST EXCEPTIONAL VARIABLE, SHE WAS.'
Siurad let the words settle over him as sleep began to pull at his eyelids. He glanced over at the tree, Mara's tree.
In the faint, dying glow of the fire, he saw it.
It was small, barely the size of a needle, but it was there. A tiny, splintered puncture mark in the bark. Evidence of a shadow spike.
Guess you're right, he thought, pulling his cloak tighter around himself and the sleeping girl. Kid's a natural.
And then, he drifted off to sleep.
A cool breeze hummed through the camp, carrying the bite of the coming morning. The fire had died hours ago, the glowing embers giving way to cold, gray ash that swirled in the draft, coating the grass in a fine, spectral dust.
The sun had not yet breached the horizon, but Siurad was awake.
His eyelids fluttered open, heavy with a lack of true rest. He sat up, his joints popping, and looked over his flock. They were sleeping soundly, a heap of tangled limbs and dirty wool blankets. It wasn't perfect, it was barely adequate, but for now, they were safe.
Siurad looked over to Yona. The chaotic, rhythmic sound of a diesel engine turning over vibrated from her small frame.
He didn't smile this time. He just stared at her, dreading the conversation that was inevitable when she woke up. Not because he thought he was wrong about teaching Mara, but precisely because he knew, deep down in the blackest part of his gut, that he was right.
In this world, the strong devoured the weak. It was a fundamental law of physics here. The only recourse against a system built on cruelty was superior cruelty.
'...YOU ARE BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND,' Obi whispered, his voice softer than usual, lacking its typical arrogance.
"I think I am," Siurad whispered to the dark. "And that’s the problem, Obi. I fear I'm starting to lose... me. The other day, with the Grief-Mare... I liked it. I didn't just want to stop it. I wanted to... kill... no. I wanted to correct it."
'...CORRECTION IS A NECESSARY CONSEQUENCE OF A CHAOTIC SYSTEM. FLAWS ARE AN UNNECESSARY VARIABLE.'
"What you call flaws are people, Obi," Siurad murmured, looking at his hands. "In my world, killing wasn't a necessity. It was a horror."
The ring pulsed, not with its usual cold blue, but with a deep, violent violet light.
'...FLAWS ARE WHAT CORRUPTED THE AUTHORITY. COMPASSION KILLED THE GREAT WORK.'
The mental voice grew louder, trembling with something that sounded terrifyingly like pain.
'...WEAKNESS BEGOT TREACHERY, TREACHERY RESULTED IN CONFINEMENT. DO NOT REPEAT MY MISTAKES, HEIR. THEY WILL TAKE EVERYTHING.'
The pulsing stopped, leaving a heavy silence in Siurad’s mind. But the silence wasn't empty. He could feel the entity thinking, a turbulent mix of ancient anger and a crushing, human like regret.
He felt it, bleeding into his own heart like ink in water. Their bond was growing too fast, blurring the lines between man and god, Siurad wasn't sure where the shepherd ended and the authority began.
The diesel engine sputtered and cut out.
There was no yawning, no stretching, no rubbing of sleep from her eyes. One moment, Yona was asleep; the next, her amber eyes snapped open, locking onto Siurad with a clarity that unsettled him.
"You're still thinking about it," she stated, her voice devoid of morning gravel.
Siurad blinked, pulled from his communion with Obi. "Thinking about what?"
"The girl," Yona said, sitting up in a single, fluid motion. She didn't look at the sunrise; she looked at him like he was a puzzle with a missing piece. "You're sitting there trying to justify giving a hand grenade to a toddler."
'...THE FOX LACKS VISION,' Obi pulsed, the ring vibrating with cold disdain. '...THE GIRL IS NOT A TODDLER. SHE IS A RESOURCE.'
Siurad stiffened, fighting the urge to nod at the voice in his head. "She asked for help, Yona. She feels helpless. I gave her a way to fight back."
'...CORRECT,' Obi agreed instantly. '...WEAKNESS IS A DISEASE POWER IS THE CURE. DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CURING HER.'
"No," Yona cut him off, her tone sharp, oblivious to the third participant in the conversation. "You gave her your way. And your way is to burn the house down to kill a spider."
She stood up, dusting the ash from her leathers, and walked over to where he sat. She didn't loom over him, but her presence felt heavy.
"We need to get one thing straight about this partnership, Shepherd," she said, crouching down so they were eye level. "I followed you because you’re interesting. You’re a anomaly. A big scary man with a conscience and a god in his pocket? That’s a portfolio I want to invest in."
She pointed a gloved finger at his chest.
"I like dangerous, Siurad. Dangerous pays, dangerous paid. Dangerous changes the world. But I don't do stupid."
Siurad bristled, emboldened by Obi’s support.
"Helping her isn't stupid."
'...AGREED,' Obi pulsed. '...TO LEAVE A BLADE UNSHARPENED IS INEFFICIENT. XARA HAD VULNEIR. IGNORE THE ANIMAL.'
"Teaching Void magic to a girl who is currently held together by trauma and spite is stupid," Yona countered, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Magic requires intent. Control. If she has a nightmare and lashes out, she won't just hurt the bad guys. She'll hurt the flock. She'll hurt us. And I didn't survive this long to get erased by a teenager having a panic attack."
Siurad opened his mouth to argue, but the logic clamped his jaw shut. Even Obi went silent at that. The image of the shadows swarming Mara’s hand, eager, volatile, hungry, flashed in his mind.
"So what?" Siurad asked, his voice tight. "I just tell her no? Let her stay a victim?"
'...UNACCEPTABLE,' Obi growled.
"You pivot," Yona said, her expression softening just a fraction. "You give her a weapon that doesn't feed on her soul. Let me teach her the blade. Let her learn discipline, footwork, leverage. Once she learns she can protect herself without blowing a hole in reality... then maybe we talk about the spooky stuff."
She held his gaze, waiting.
"I’m not your morality pet, big guy," she added quietly. "I'm your partner. And partners stop each other from walking off cliffs."
Siurad let out a long breath. Obi was simmering in the back of his mind, radiating disapproval at the delay, but Siurad knew Yona had a point. He looked over at the sleeping Mara, then back to the fox woman who saw the world with such terrifying clarity.
"Steel first," Siurad conceded.
'...DISAPPOINTING,' Obi judged. '...BUT DISCIPLINE HAS MERIT.'
"But you explain it to her," Siurad added. "I’m tired of being the bad guy."
Yona grinned, the tension snapping as her usual shark like smile returned.
"Deal," she said, standing up and offering him a hand. "I’ll turn her into a terror. You just focus on keeping us alive long enough to get there."
Siurad took her hand. Her grip was calloused and strong.
"Now," Yona said, hauling him up. "Wake the flock. If I have to eat another piece of salted pork while sitting still, I’m going to bite someone."