Jherog lay, his head resting on his forearm, looking up at the stars. He could hear the horses not far off, the wind blowing through the leaves in the trees, and the crackle of what little fire remained underneath the coals in the pit nearby. He smiled. Though looking up at such a vast expanse should make him feel even more lost, somehow it calmed him. The stars were just so bright, and beautiful. Somehow they were comforting, though he felt lost in every other aspect of his life at the moment. He felt as though he and Devra were simply wandering aimlessly. He sighed and felt Devra move in closer to him. She pushed her head up against his chest and squeezed his hand. He looked over at her, asleep. Her fire-red hair was wild all around her, twisted around her body, and tangled around her arms. Though it had been months, he still found it challenging to sleep with her next to him. But after what had happened with the Gigan who’d tried to… he couldn’t even finish the thought. But after the incident, she’d begged and pleaded, claiming it was the only way she’d ever feel safe enough to sleep again. He couldn’t blame her and so agreed. Every night she settled in next to him, taking hold of his hand, and resting her body just inches from his own. It was strange because it invoked many conflicting feelings within him. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe, as though she were his daughter. But, she was growing into a fine young woman, with a very tempting body. She always fell asleep before he did and he would watch her. She looked so much like her mother, Derina. Though fully clothed, he could envisage her naked form underneath. Her chest would rise from a deep breath and he would long to reach out and feel for her heartbeat. She would roll away from him and he would feel her backside against his body, and it would invoke strange feelings within him. But he never acted on it. He felt it would be wrong. The thoughts and feelings alone, muddled with the memories of her mother. He wondered what would Derina have said if she were alive. He allowed himself a few moments to think of her, remember her beauty, her kindness, how gentle she was. She’d entered his thoughts more and more recently, though he was trying to push them away. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t allow her to consume his thoughts ever again. Especially after she’d died. Thinking of her had always made him terribly sad and lonely, so he’d worked hard to train himself not to. But he found himself thinking of her more and more as of late. Likely because of Devra, he surmised. She looked so much like her. Seemed just as fragile and in need of protection. How strange that he would provide as such for both mother and child. If only Grodan could see him now. He gasped. He hadn’t thought of Grodan in years. He felt a smirk creep onto his face and almost laughed when he felt Devra move again.
”What’s so amusing?” she asked. She was looking up at him, her eyes barely open. He smiled at her.
”Nothing,” he stuttered. He squeezed her hand. ”It pleases me to know you can rest.” She lifted herself up onto her elbow and stared down at him. Her eyes were half-closed and her lips parted into a half-smile.
”Can you not?” He smiled and searched for words to cover his true feelings. He didn’t want to tell her she was distracting him, reminding him of her mother. He wasn’t sure she even knew he’d known her mother.
”Of course,” he lied. ”Just a lot to think about.” He broke eye contact with her and looked back at the stars.
”Looking back? Or ahead?” she suddenly asked and he almost froze on the spot and hoped he hid his nerves well.
”What do you mean?”
”When thoughts consume us, distract us from the present, they are rarely, if ever, about the present. It’s more likely remembering something from the past, or worrying about the future.” He nodded, impressed. ”So which is it?” He hesitated.
”The future,” he half-lied, for both were troubling him. He could feel her staring at him so avoided eye contact. ”I’m worried about where the path we are taking leads us.” Devra sighed and let go of his hand.
”We’ve discussed this a thousand times,” she moaned, sitting up. ”What could possibly be so troubling it is keeping you up?” He sat up to meet her.
”We’ve been following the trail of destruction for months and still haven’t come across a single Gigan, let alone some sort of united group of them aiming to start a war. We’ve barely seen signs of fighting. Don’t you think it strange?”
”Jherog, we’ve discussed this. Can you honestly deny the things we’ve seen? The Goridians accounts?”
”We’ve seen nothing,” he reminded her and she glared at him. ”We’ve only accounts and tales heard along the way.” He reached for her hand, sensing and seeing how upset she was getting. He wanted to avoid that, but she pulled away from him and stood.
”We’ve seen nothing???” she yelled. ”You honestly believe that?” Jherog sighed and lowered his head, averting her gaze. ”What about what happened to me? What about…”
He quickly stood and took her in his arms, feeling shame for making her recall the event.
”It’s ok…” he whispered, but she pushed him away, so hard he almost fell into the fire.
”No it’s not ok,” she yelled. ”That Gigan would have forced himself on me. He would have violated me, Jherog! He was determined to…”
”I know!” he had to interrupt her. He couldn’t bear hearing it, let alone the thought and image. But it always came back to this. Even though he felt as though something was off, though he couldn’t put his finger on it, or put it into words, it always came back to the Gigan attacking Devra. He knew it must have traumatized her. He knew it had affected her, possibly permanently, filling her with fear and rage. But he feared that was what was motivating their wild chase. She still hadn’t spoken of what happened in Linden, and he was beginning to feel overwhelmed with helping her manage her emotions.
“You were there when they attacked Grindl! You saw what they did to our people, our village, my family.” She was almost in tears and guilt took over his entire body. He sighed.
”Do you honestly believe what’s happened are just unfortunate incidents?” Tears were gently rolling down her cheeks, her eyes consumed with fear and shock. He could read her sense of betrayal and he felt even more dastardly. He stepped closer to her, afraid she would flinch or turn away, but she didn’t. He reached his hands out to her and held her arms.
”I know you feel targeted,” he started, unsure of how to proceed. ”What’s happened to you in the last two years is unimaginable. Unbearable. Unforgivable!” She let out a deep breath and fell into him. He was about to continue. He wanted to tell her that despite everything, he thought it best for them to go home, or find a new home. To forget all they’d seen and experienced and build a life somewhere, but she sobbed so loudly, he couldn’t. So he held her tighter. She sobbed for some time and he just held her. Her soft hair blew in the breeze, tickling his arms and cheek. He closed his eyes, allowing the experience to open up a long-buried memory. He’d once held Derina in much the same way, while she’d wept, though he couldn’t recall what she’d been weeping for.
”I need you,” Devra suddenly begged. ”You have to be with me.”
”I am with you,” he assured her. ”I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. Hers were intense. Glossed over with tears waiting to fall, he could see a strange light behind them. It almost looked like flames. ”You’re not with me though,” she sobbed.
”I am,” he insisted, but she shook her head, no and turned away from him.
”You’re here physically,” she agreed. ”But I need you for more than that.” She kept her back to him and her voice became hard and quiet. ”I need you to BE with me,” she repeated. He wanted to express his confusion but felt nervous to do so. She turned toward him and he was a little afraid. The fire in her eyes seemed to have intensified. She no longer looked soft, afraid, and vulnerable. ”You must be my ally,” she stepped toward him and he couldn’t help but step back. ”You must believe what I believe, support me in what I must do.” She stepped closer and again he stepped back. He could feel the warmth of the fire against the back of his legs.
”I do… I just…”
”No!” she yelled. ”No falters. No excuses. Only faith.” She stepped closer again but he was cornered. The fire was directly behind him and he had nowhere to turn. Suddenly her eyes softened. ”You look as though you’re afraid of me,” she whispered. She stepped in closer and the fire within her seemed doused. The flames in her eyes were now only a reflection of the burning coals from the fire pit. Again, suddenly, she was the lost, damaged, and hurt young girl in need of protection. ”Are you afraid of me?” she stuttered, holding back more tears. She looked so vulnerable. Any feelings of apprehension or nerves within him quickly vanished. He took her in his arms and held her tight.
”Of course not,” he assured her. ”I love you,” he suddenly blurted, not realizing he would say it. She quickly looked up at him, surprise and elation written all over her face.
”You do?”
”Of course,” he confirmed, for it was true. He did love her in some way, though he still wasn’t certain how, or what it meant. She buried her head in his chest and squeezed him.
”And I you,” she whispered. He was afraid she would look up and kiss him, but she didn’t. Relieved, he squeezed her once more and pushed her back.
”Now, enough tears,” he announced. ”I am with you.” She needed him, he told himself. She was damaged, too affected by the recent past, her family’s death, what happened in Linden, and the attack by the Gigan. She needed to feel safe. She needed to feel in control, in charge, and he could certainly provide her that, couldn’t he? ”Whatever you need, I am here.” She smiled at him.
”Thank you.” She fell into his arms again and he held her for a few moments before ushering her back to the ground.
”We need rest if we’re to continue our journey in the morning.” They lay down and he pulled the covers up over them as she moved her head to rest on his chest. The silence that surrounded them brought Jherog unease as he breathed deeply to try and calm his mind and allow for rest to take over. He closed his eyes.
”What was my mother like?” His eyes popped open and he held in a gasp. ”You must have known her,” she continued.
”She was a kind woman.”
”I don’t remember much of her,” she whispered with a melancholy tone. ”I was told she was beautiful.” Jherog nodded.
”You look a lot like her,” he told her. She looked up at him but he didn’t meet her eyes and stared up at the stars.
”So you knew her?”
”It seems a lifetime ago,” he sighed. ”But yes, I knew her.” He could feel the elation in her as she squeezed him and settled herself back into a comfortable position.
”Tell me about her,” she couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. His eyes darted left and right, up and down, trying to recall the memories he could share with her.
”She was the most kind person I’ve ever met,” he began. ”We’d see each other around the village and at gatherings, though she was slightly younger than I.”
”Were you friends as children?”
”We didn’t play together. As I said, she was younger. But we did help with the Stjernes fair a few times.” He smiled, remembering her dainty hands passing out fans to observers. How she’d needed his help retrieving them from the storage area in the great hall as she wasn’t yet tall enough to reach the shelf. How she’d smiled at him and thanked him, sharing a twinkle in her eye. ”She was so fragile and sweet.”
”My mother? From what I remember, she was strong and hard.” Jherog felt his face scrunch up in disagreement.
”Perhaps in time. As we age, life becomes more complicated and affects us all differently. It’s likely, after your father died, she had to become so.” He remembered walking in the village one day and seeing Derina return from harvesting fruit. They were still young and full of life. When she’d seen him, she’d walked over and given him an apple. She’d smiled at him and she’d waited until he bit into it. He did so and smiled, stating it was the sweetest apple he’d ever tasted. She’d responded with something sweet, smiled, and ran off. Her voice had been so melodic and gentle, her smile infectious and kind. She’d made him feel special. ”But deep down, she was soft, and kind.”
”Did you know my father?” Jherog tried not to allow the tension he felt in his body to filter out so Devra could feel it. He’d never liked Grodan. He’d been older and had never been kind to him. He hadn’t been a bad man but had always flaunted his good fortune in front of others. It had broken his heart when Derina had been forced to marry him. He’d been certain she would’ve chosen differently had she been allowed to. And so, for years, he’d had to watch Derina from afar, ensuring never to be seen or suspected, as it was very inappropriate to lust after a joined woman. ”Jherog?” He’d kept quiet for too long.
”I did not,” he lied. ”Not really.” He could sense Devra’s disappointment. ”He was older than me,” he explained.
“He died before I was born.” She sighed. ”Sometimes I think I can remember the sound of his voice, but I don’t know if it’s real.” Jerhog didn’t know what to say and so gently squeezed her.
“Whatever memories you think you have, hold onto them. They are a gift.”
”Tell me more about my mother,” she pleaded. Jherog took in a deep breath, hesitating, but then smiled. It couldn’t hurt to speak of her for just a little bit.
He rambled on for several minutes, sharing the memories he’d been carrying with him his whole life. Memories of Derina dancing with him at the Stjernes fair when she was still young and petite, and he was almost ready to be a man. Reflections of their conversations when they would see each other in the market before she’d been committed to Grodan. And the few they’d stolen after. Of course, he spoke of them as they were two friends, with no inappropriateness between them as he didn’t want to mark her mother or change the way Devra viewed her. It felt like he’d been speaking for hours, lost in his happy memories when he realized she was asleep. Finally, shutting his mouth and his eyes, granting sleep to take over, he allowed his memories to evolve into dreams.
Over the next few days, Devra seemed quieter, almost changed. It made Jherog nervous, but he didn’t know how to approach her as he didn’t want to upset her. Even at night, she seemed more restless, having difficulty falling asleep. He was worried about her. She looked exhausted, almost spent, with little energy.
”Are you getting enough rest?” he finally asked, damning the consequences. She didn’t look at him.
”I’m fine,” she answered.
”You just seem…”
”I’m fine,” she interrupted. He pulled his horse to fall in beside hers and grabbed her reigns. When the horses stopped she looked at him, angry, frustrated. He only returned the look with patience and kindness.
”You asked me to be with you.” She looked away. “To support you, be your ally. Is there something wrong?” He waited but she remained silent. ”Was it something I said, about your mother?” She turned to him a strange look on her face, but before she could speak, she was looking past him and gasped.
”Look!” she pointed and kicked her horse into a gallop. He let the reigns go, not wanting to be pulled off of his horse and quickly fell in step. There was a large cloud of black smoke reaching for the sky not too far off.
”Devra!” He yelled. They couldn’t know its source and he didn’t want her to suddenly jump into danger. But she was already far ahead of him, too far gone for him to catch up.
”Devra! Wait!”
It took them quite some time to get close. But as he’d feared, it was not good, nor did it look secure. It appeared as though a village were burning. Jherog’s heart stopped and he had to remember to breathe as images of Grindl flooded his mind. The warning bell sounded the alarm. The houses burning. The sounds of villagers screaming, men, women, and children. The feel of his wood-cutting axe splitting through a Gigan's head. He stopped short of the village though Devra's horse took her right up to the edge. Without hesitation, she jumped off and ran into it. Jherog grunted in frustration and forced his horse closer. It stopped next to Devra’s and he climbed down.
”Devra!” he yelled. The fires were still burning strong. There were dead Goridians strewn across the streets, men, women, and children. Jherog could feel his heart and breath quicken. It was suddenly becoming challenging to breathe. He stumbled through the streets and thought he might retch. He turned away from the road to expel all of the saliva building in his mouth but screamed when he ran into a Gigan. He was large and oppressive. Jherog closed his eyes tight, fearful he would be slain right where he stood, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes to find the Gigan was unmoving. Dead. Hanging by a thick rope so tight around his neck it was as though his body were trying to absorb it. His eyes were bulging out of his skull and his fingers were bloody and burned. Likely from trying to free himself. Jherog stepped back, grateful to be alive, but horrified at the sight. He suddenly lost his footing and fell. He looked to see what he’d tripped over and on the stones lay the lifeless body of a small Goridian child. It lay still, its eyes wide open in fear. Jherog closed his eyes again, suppressing the tears that wanted to burst forth. He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes again, but as soon as he saw the child's body, he retched next to it. When it felt as though his stomach couldn’t be emptier, he was finally able to breathe. He wiped any bile from his lips and moved to stand. ”Devra!” he yelled, scared something had happened to her.
”It was a massacre,” he heard her voice. He quickly turned to find her behind him, just a few feet away. She looked deflated, devastated, but also angry. Jherog quickly moved to her side.
”Let’s leave this place,” he begged.
”No,” she almost whispered, a quiet resolve in her voice. ”We must stay.”
”What?” he couldn’t believe what she was saying.
”We can’t leave them like this.”
”Devra…”
”They must all be buried.”
”We don’t know if it’s safe.” She finally made eye contact with him and there it was, that strange fire in her eyes, burning so fiercely.
”We will stay,” she uttered like a command, her voice deep and dark. Jherog‘s nerves began to jump inside of him as he wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the words.
“But the Gigans could return…”
”Let them!” she whispered harshly. ”Let them come.” She didn’t sound like herself. Her voice, her demeanor, the look in her eyes. All were inspiring a new fear in Jherog. But he chalked it up to her upset, the trauma of happening upon such a site. He reached for her.
”Devra, let’s…” She shoved him, hard, and he fell to the ground. She stood over him and he was surprised by how ominous and scary she looked.
”Let them come and I will destroy them!” She turned away and Jherog could only stare after her. His poor Devra, he thought. This is too much for her. He watched as she lifted the lifeless child from the ground and carried it like a babe, walking away. She stopped and turned back to face him. The irises of her eyes were entirely engulfed in flame. Her long hair, whipping in every direction around her, echoed the flames around them. Despite having experienced her fragility, her vulnerability, and youngher softness, she appeared everything but. She looked tall, menacing, brutal, and terrifying. ”We will eradicate the Gigan. We must.” She turned her back to him and walked away, leaving Jherog stunned and speechless among the ashes.
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Ⓒ February 2023. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.