PROMPT

81). "I thought I could trust you!" though combined with 79). "If you weren't a good person, I wouldn't have trusted you." , that might make a interesting tale too. up to you of course which one you prefer.

The world is not a kind place. It can’t be. Rather, it can’t afford to be. Given the chance, each entity will try and take advantage of another to fulfill one goal or another, whether it’s for pleasure, entertainment, or pure survival.

O’Kairyn knew the ways of their world. There was a cycle to life. There was a natural progression to this cycle. Something is created, it exists, and at some point it ends. O’Kairyn knew this and never resented it.

From the Essevi in his bones to the celestial bodies above, O’Kairyn knew these things to be true. He knew that creatures needed to die for some to survive.

He also knew the treachery of the Ordin.

As an Imitari, O’Kairyn feared the Ordin. There were stories of times when the two races once lived in peace, but that was centuries ago, if it even happened at all. The Ordin were everything the Imitari were not. Ordin were immense, humanoid entities who insisted on building towns and roads, cutting through the forests and trees to further their empires. They waged war to gain the objects of their fallen enemies and knew no compromise.

True, they were arguably more suited to the world around them, physically larger in stature to the point where they could practically eclipse the suns if they stood over an Imitari.

Imitari, on the other hand, dwelt in and among the elements of nature where they felt more connected to the earth. They lived quiet lives and possessed a love for the beauty of nature surrounding them. They could conceal themselves among the roots and underbrush with ease, and often this was where they made their homes. Their civilizations and cities existed in unison with what was around them.

Yes, one race appeared physically similar to the other. One head. Two arms and legs and hands. If perspective were altered, a person could not distinguish the two.

In all reality, there was one, significant different that truly separated the two races – Essevi. For Imitari, like O’Kairyn, it was what gave them their abilities. It was lifeblood. It was the source of the extraordinary. It connected the celestial bodies and gifted many Imitari with this innate gift. Spells and runes, sigils and sages all possessed Essevi.  

It was this precious thing that the Ordin were now fixated on, and they were stopping at nothing.

To O’Kairyn, it was a disgrace. It was unacceptable. It was wretched what they were doing to their people – those Imitari with Essevi.

Like common pests, Ordin were trapping any and all Imitari in the hopes of finding those with Essevi. The Ordin flushed out entire cities to shove its occupants into inescapable cages that could negate Essevi. The wretched creatures, you see, had found a way to do so. O’Kairyn had his suspicions on how the Ordin designed such sigils, specifically believing a few Imitari had volunteered their assistance so their own families would be spared. Sadly, it was just a working theory.

It would have been a mercy to simply kill the Imitari and go about their day. These monsters, however, had gone a step further.

The Ordin often kept Imitari and tortured them for information. They would ask where the other villages were. How Imitari hide themselves. More importantly, where were the Imitari finding sanctuary. The Imitari were running somewhere to avoid Ordin capture. Where was it?

Worst of all, after capture and questioning, was what all Imitari believed to be the fuel of nightmares.

The Ordin called it The Caerimonia. In short, they would consume the Imitari in full, body and Essevi in all, while alive.

The wretched event was something no one wanted to endure.

The Imitari, O’Kairyn’s people, called it the Braheginh – the soul’s death cry.

All of this, which was the most despicable to O’Kairyn and all Imitari, was to steel the Essevi for themselves. The Caerimonia, a process devised by some of the twisted Ordin, had discovered a way to take and obtain Essavi from an Imitari.

While many Imitari fled, an equal number were captured and were suffering at the hands of the Ordin. O’Kairyn was one of a few who dared to attempt to stay and free their kind out of their homelands into a freedom they once knew in a time that felt like centuries ago.

O’Kairyn helped run a smuggling operation along with a few other brave Imitari to help bring Imitari to freedom. There was an entire network working together on saving others, each individual knowing only a piece or two of information to keep safe havens a secret.

O’Kairyn had made it his personal mission to free as many souls as he could before meeting his demise. He knew it would be his end, but he recognized it. Each time he left the safety of his home for the trail, he knew it could be the last time. Still, he refused to roll over easily if he could help it, but such an enemy which could cancel the Essevi was a powerful one.

All the more reason to save his people.

So, as O’Kairyn prepared himself, he set his mind to the possibility he would not return. He felt nervous of all things, but it was more than the usual unease.

This night was unlike others. O’Kairyn had received a tip from other Imitari who were close to nearby villages and the capital, Yleigh, that someone knew when the next “harvest,” as the Ordin called it, would be shipping the collected Imitari to Yleigh.

It was supposed to be a good tip, and mainly it was vouched for by one of O’Kairyn’s fellow runners. It might not be much, but it was all the runners had to go on sometimes; and wasn’t it worth the risk if at least one Imitari life could be saved from the Ordin’s greedy maws?

The night was still and aglow with the cold moons’ light. The three moons were aligned in the sky in an odd way, two of them full face and one a fading crescent. It made it look like the three moons tracing the heavens above look like an odd, menacing smile. The sight sent chills up O’Kairyn’s spine, but he kept low through the underbrush out of view. The ferns arched above his head and cast the perfect type of dappled shadow against the root infested terrain.

The trek was a longer one, and several hours passed while O’Kairyn darted from cover to cover until he finally made it to the predetermined meeting point. O’Kairyn tapped his fingers nervously on a root just above his head which was helping him stay concealed. Even though he was hours behind, O’Kairyn elected to wait and observe the clearing; for all he knew, there could be a passive trap waiting to ensnare unsuspecting Imitari.

Time passed in what the forest called silence, filling the trees with the chirp of crickets and the occasional screech of birds of the night, before O’Kairyn was satisfied there was no one in the immediate vicinity.

Taking a breath, O’Kairyn concentrated and summoned a small, green light by the base of an immense, old tree halfway across the clearing. It was one of his signatures and a signal for his source to come forward.

He waited for a short time.

And he waited a short time longer.

O’Kairyn’s hands began shaking slightly. His concentration on the verdant light faded. He needed to preserve what energy he had in case of emergencies. Perhaps he had the time wrong? Perhaps he was too late? Maybe the informant had been captured?

The thought alone was enough to make O’Kairyn weak in the knees. He was about to abandon his post and begin the long trek back when he saw someone, an Imitari, step out from under the cover of the roots by the base of the tree.

Relief swelled in O’Kairyn’s chest, and he let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

Time to meet.

O’Kairyn summoned the same, verdant energy in the subtle light at the base of the tree and made his way over to the individual. The Imitari crouched by the roots of the tree was a young man, early in his twenties, and had tired brown eyes. When O’Kairyn approached, the other Imitari looked around nervously before greeting him briskly.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” he said quietly. O’Kairyn heard a tremor in his voice.

“I had to make sure the area was safe. I’m O’Kairyn,” O’Kairyn replied quietly as he gestured for them to hide further in the roots of the large tree. O’Kairyn summoned a verdant light in his hand which cast odd shadows among the roots as he sat down on the ground across from the other Imitari, who looked concerned and wrung his hands.

“I’m Haryk. Do… you… think they’re out there?” he asked nervously. O’Kairyn nodded.

“They’re everywhere, but that’s nothing new. Now, let’s get right to it, you said you ha…”

“If… if you think they’re out there, do you think it’s safe? For both of us? I mean… how do I know I can trust you?” interrupted Haryk. O’Kairyn sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“You’re right. Times have certainly turned against us, yes. Still, we have to be able to trust one another. That is what separates us from the Ordin. I mean, if you weren’t a good person, I wouldn’t have trusted you and I wouldn’t be here,” replied O’Kairyn.

“You were… certainly a difficult one to get in contact with. Really, I… I never thought I’d have the pleasure of meeting you,” muttered Haryk. O’Kairyn couldn’t help but grin at this thought.

“Thanks, and you’re not wrong. There are a lot of Ordin who would like to see the end of me. I’ve made their lives a bit difficult lately, but back to the point,” said O’Kairyn, trying to rein in the conversation. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end and there was something that felt charged in the air around Haryk. Though O’Kairyn felt uneasy, he wanted to get the information from his fellow Imitari. “You told a friend of mine that you have information about the so-called ‘harvest’ and the transport back to Yleigh. So, talk.”

“I just… how will you make sure you keep everyone safe? Do you have others?” pressed Haryk. The runner sighed and shook his head.

“I can’t tell you. Please understand I don’t have anything against you, but we keep this information quiet on purpose. Now, please, we don’t have a lot of time,” urged O’Kairyn. Obviously disappointed, Haryk nodded and cleared his throat.

“Right. Of course. Apologies. Yes, the Imitari were taken seven suns sets ago. The raid was… terrible. The Ordin had them all in cages. They were stacking cages in a carriage with these massive horses. Flames were everywhere. I… I don’t think anyone got away,” said Haryk.

Haryk proceeded to give details about the different Ordin, describing different features of their faces and even was able to describe what clothes they were wearing. He said they would be traveling by the river all the way to the capital and that they would be leaving later that night.

O’Kairyn listened patiently and paid attention to every detail. As he listened, something just didn’t seem completely right to O’Kairyn.

“So, you don’t think anyone got away?” he asked. Haryk shook his head, eyes glossy with the burning images of the memories in his mind.

Why do I have this nagging feeling? What about this is setting me so on edge? Wondered O’Kairyn.

“So, where were you hiding? Or did you hear this from someone else?” asked the runner, watching Haryk’s reactions carefully. O’Kairyn watched Haryk shift uncomfortably before he responded.

“Yes… well… I mean… I was nearby… I was out hunting some small ground stalkers and hid in one of the trees nearby to watch after I heard the screams,” stated Haryk.

O’Kairyn’s eyes narrowed. Haryk’s voice had an almost imperceptible tremor. What was worse was that despite the relative chill of the evening air, there was a nervous bead of sweat gathering at Haryk’s hairline. Was he that scared of being discovered? Did he think he was followed?

“And, just to clarify, you do not have Essevi?” probed O’Kairyn.

“No, but my family does,” replied Haryk.

“And you’re from the town?” O’Kairyn asked.

“Yes.”

O’Kairyn’s senses were electrified. Something felt wrong. Something felt really wrong about this conversation.

How could Haryk have seen such great detail if he were hiding in a distant tree?

Haryk didn’t have Essevi, but his family did.

A sinking feeling settled in O’Kairyn’s gut, and everything in him screamed to be on edge.

It suddenly made sense and, if it were true, O’Kairyn was in trouble.

It seemed like an impossible circumstance, but O’Kairyn had heard twice that other runners encountered an abettor, someone who was working for the Ordin, for the protection of their own family. How an Imitari could do such a thing was beyond him, but O’Kairyn didn’t want to find out.

He needed to stay calm, but he also needed to conclude their meeting sooner rather than later. Trying to give off no warning signs, O’Kairyn stood and forced a smile.

“Well, I think I have everything I need,” he stated. “If they are leaving tonight, I’ll need to move quickly. It would be safer if you stayed here for the next few days.” Panic in his eyes, Haryk stood and grabbed onto O’Kairyn’s arm.

“Wait, don’t leave just yet!” he begged. “Take me with you. I… I want to help.”

“You’ve done what you can by telling me. I promise I’ll do what I can…”

“No… you… you don’t understand…” There was a wildness to Haryk’s eyes that felt like a punch to the gut. Before O’Kairyn could summon a force to push Haryk away, he felt a sharp jab in his side accompanied by a burning sensation. “You… they need you….”

O’Kairyn shoved Haryk away and turned to run, but the burning was quickly spreading through his body. O’Kairyn knew what this was. What he was stabbed with was a toxin. Imitari had learned to harvest and brew a special toxin that stunned and immobilized its prey. It was difficult to brew, but it was highly effective. They tried using it on the Ordin, but it required a significant dose to render one unconscious, though O’Kairyn couldn’t see why.

Already, he could feel it pumping through his blood, spreading quickly from the rapid beating of his heart. His vision blurred and the tips of his fingers were tingling. He barely made it ten steps before his knees gave out.

“Wha… what have you done?” O’Kairyn said, speech slurring. He tried clawing his way forward to get away from Haryk, but it was pointless. Voice tense and shaking, Haryk’s reply was simple.

“I had to protect my family. This was the only way they would let us live. I… I’m sorry.”

The world was consumed in darkness as O’Kairyn slipped into unconsciousness.

There were moments of blurred focus for him.

He could hear Haryk’s voice shouting, calling out to someone. It was soon followed by a sharp pinch and the sensation of weightlessness. There was another shout of surprise. No matter how much O’Kairyn struggled to open his eyes, they were too heavy. The toxin was still running rampant in his bloodstream.

O’Kairyn wasn’t sure how much time passed, but what he did know was enough to crush what fighting spirit he possessed.

Bars.

Harsh, metallic bars.

They were everywhere.

O’Kairyn’s vision was enveloped by these bars around him. Inscribed into the top and bottom of his prison were those dreaded sigils negating his Essevi. There was no need to look for the dagger at his back or in his boot. They were gone. He could feel it. He also felt a twinge and glanced hopelessly at his left arm, which was hanging limp at his side and deeply bruised from what he could see beneath his simple leather and cloth armor.

That must’ve been where they grabbed me. It would be the Spirits’ will if it weren’t broken.

What was more surprising was that O’Kairyn wasn’t alone in his cage. Haryk was also there with O’Kairyn, trapped behind bars. The once freed runner didn’t expect anything different. Did Haryk think he would be safe? Did he think the Ordin would just let him go when he had been so compliant? Obedient and willing to act as a lure was what Haryk had established himself as, and they would keep using him.

Poor soul.

If things were different, O’Kairyn might actually feel inclined to attack Haryk; however, if O’Kairyn was right, the energy wouldn’t be worth it.

Their end was undoubtedly soon. Why fight with what would undoubtedly be the last Imitari he would ever come into contact with?

O’Kairyn popped his ears and forced his body to stretch. Thankfully, it didn’t feel like anything was broken, not that it mattered. His shoulder was dislocated, yes, but that was the least of his worries.

O’Kairyn was known among the Ordin. He had made their lives a living misery by helping raid their “harvests,” and now his life was forfeit as exchange. He clenched and unclenched his jaw to keep the swelling, choking feeling in his throat from rising up. If this were to be his end, he wouldn’t go out a blubbering fool.

Unlike O’Kairyn, Haryk was shouting at the top of his lungs at what were undoubtedly their captors. Haryk spoke in Common rather than the language of the Imitari, which was Tarian.

“I thought I could trust you!” Haryk shouted over and over. “Let me go! Give my family back! You swore!”

The sounds of desperate shouting were, if anything, annoying. O’Kairyn glared at Haryk’s back before letting his shoulders slump.

“Will you stop that. Have some dignity,” O’Kairyn muttered in Tarian and not in Common, clearing his throat a couple of times after in hopes to disguise the emotion he didn’t want to slip out. Haryk looked back at O’Kairyn, terror in his eyes.

“I… you… you’re awake… p-pl-please… I… I only w-wanted to save my family. I’m sorry. You have to understand,” pleaded Haryk, now looking like a cornered animal.

“You don’t get it, do you?” sighed O’Kairyn. “They tricked you. Your family is already dead, rotting inside one of them while they parade around with their Essevi.” Haryk collapsed to his knees, letting out a hysterical cry.

“No! They can’t be! I saw them before…”

“Before you went to ransom me? That was probably the last time you were ever going to see them. Hope you made your good-bye a good one,” muttered O’Kairyn, still speaking in Tarian. Arms wrapped around his torso, Haryk could only shake his head over and over in disbelief.

“You… you’re lying!” he shouted as he lunged at O’Kairyn, who made no effort to stop the angry Imitari from grabbing the collar of his shirt. Unintimidated, O’Kairyn stared blankly into his attacker’s eyes.

“No, I’m not. I don’t lie. Unlike the Ordin, I have no reason to lie, and you know it.”

At this, they heard a spine-chilling sound.

Laughing.

Neither Imitari could stop their bodies from shuddering as they watched two male Ordin approach the cage, which was suspended in the air by a rope which was hung on a low-hanging branch.

“Getting friendly,” grinned one of the Ordin as he spoke in Common, a sneer crawling across his lips sadistically. “One last go around?”

O’Kairyn let a growl rise up in his own throat as he forced himself shakily to his feet. He barely had the strength to glare at one of his captors, but he knew he had to confront his fate. He had already accepted it after all, despite every desire to live.

“Shut up!” O’Kairyn spat in Common. His aggression made Haryk whimper and curl into a ball in the corner of the cage. O’Kairyn ignored this and continued staring into the massive brown eyes peering in at him. The cage had bars on all sides and left no place to hide; and the Ordin took advantage of there being no hiding place by reaching up and pressing their fingers on all sides to make Haryk cower. O’Kairyn, on the other hand, stood what little ground he could.

“Bold little one, aren’t you? I’d expect no less from O’Kairyn the courageous,” he stated as he pressed his thick, meaty finger against the bars. O’Kairyn shuddered, thinking about how those fingers would probably be one of the last things he felt squeezing around his body.

The pad of the Ordin’s finger alone was about the size of O’Kairyn’s head, which only sent more chills down the Imitari’s spine. “You’ll be a fun one, won’t you. You’re going to be mine all night.”

O’Kairyn’s heart was beating wildly in sheer panic. Provoking them would only mean more torment, but he needed to have what was, in his mind, the last word.

“You spineless, worthless lump. Get on with it! Or do you just talk big?” spat O’Kairyn in Common. The Ordin grinned and chuckled, sharing a glance with their companion, before walking away back toward a wooden cart pulled by many horses. O’Kairyn continued to glare at them, refusing to break away until he was sure they wouldn’t see him fall to his knees.

O’Kairyn’s breathing was shallow as his mind ran rampant, but thankfully his features didn’t give him away. Haryk, on the other hand, whimpered and curled in on himself, looking to O’Kairyn after a minute of muttering to himself.

“What are we going to do?” he asked in Tarian finally, swallowing dryly. O’Kairyn let his body slump while his eyes latched onto the etchings and sigils that helped seal him into this cage and disconnect him from his Essevi. O’Kairyn’s mind would have stayed on those etchings if it had not picked up on some other word – we.

“We.” He said to himself in their language, not even looking at Haryk. “‘We’ implies a group of two or more.”

“That’s… that’s what we are though… right?” asked Haryk.

“No. There is no ‘we’. You gave that up when you surrendered yourself and sabotaged me, getting me captured,” sighed O’Kairyn. The defeat was obvious in his voice, and he wasn’t trying to disguise it.

“But… you… you’re O’Kairyn the courageous. You’ve evaded and fought a dozen Ordin at once. You’ve smuggled hundreds of Imitari to safety. You’ve had to have some kind of…”

“Escape plan?” finished O’Kairyn, letting his frustration and anger well up in him, straining his voice. “Yes, but it was always contingent on me being free. I have no Essevi, so my connection is severed. I have no weapons; you saw to that. The only thing I have is you, and that isn’t much. Titles and names mean nothing in the end.”

Haryk, hyperventilating, could only clutch either side of his head and let the tears stream down his face.

“So… we… everything… there’s nothing we can do?” asked Haryk.

O’Kairyn thought hard about the question as his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered his older sister and younger brother. He had fond memories of growing up in the Cromirth, their own small town hiding in the leaves of the trees. It felt like paradise – an escape and a sanctuary. O’Kairyn also remembered the flames and the screams of his friends and other relatives, begging him to save them or to run and not watch what was about to happen.

If only he had listened.

He did stay.

He started enacting a plan to free them all, but not before witnessing the Ordin’s form of torture to the Imitari.

It was… unspeakable…

O’Kairyn knew in his heart this was his fate too.

But…

It didn’t have to be…

“There’s nothing I can do, but there is something you can do,” said O’Kairyn, clenching his fist so tight his wound began to bleed. Haryk looked up at him eagerly.

“Yes? What is it? I-I-I’ll do anything,” Haryk stammered.

With a deadpan stare, O’Kairyn looked Haryk in the eye and said two simple words.

“Kill me.”

Haryk looked absolutely mortified.

“W-w-what?”

“You heard me,” O’Kairyn said, turning toward Haryk. “Be honest with yourself and with me. They don’t know you from any other Imitari. Your death will be comparatively quick and painless unless they plan on using you again as bait for other runners like me. On the other hand, they know who I am. They know I have information they need to find our trails, and they won’t kill me until… Well… When they realize I won’t talk, I can at least hope my end comes swiftly.”

“W… No. N-n-no I… I can’t!” Haryk pleaded. “There must be something else.” O’Kairyn glanced over at his fellow Imitari with the same pleading eyes. His heart ached with the thought, but what other choice was there? Endure the fate to come?

“Please,” O’Kairyn said softly. “You put me in here. You resigned me to this fate. The least you could do for me is keep them from desecrating what will be left me. Haryk, lives are at stake. Imitari lives are at stake. If I break for whatever reason, the lives of runners and those they’re protecting are in danger. If you have a shred of dignity left… you’ll do this one thing for me.”

Haryk, hands clutched on either side of his head, shook violently as the severity of what O’Kairyn was asking of him set in. His head shook from side to side, unwilling to accept what was inevitably going to happen. O’Kairyn knew the look. It was the same look he saw in himself every time he left his home to fulfill his personal, moral duty of protecting other Imitari. O’Kairyn turned his body, clutching his injured arm close to his torso.

“Haryk,” O’Kairyn implored. “I’ve seen what the Ordin will do to me. My arm, here, is a fraction of what is to come. Please… don’t make me endure that too.”

The two Imitari shared a look, just a single look. It was one of finality and acceptance.

Haryk forced himself to his feet and stepped up behind O’Kairyn.

“A-a-re y-you…”

“Yes. Just… make it quick. If they see, they’ll stop you,” stated O’Kairyn stiffly. Haryk’s arm wrapped around his neck. Every impulse in O’Kairyn’s body screamed to fight. It was like his body had gained a mind of its own and began to tremble. Still, O’Kairyn mentally remained resolved and even managed a simple, “Thank you.”

The pressure around his neck began to increase. It was getting hard to breathe. O’Kairyn could sense Haryk hesitating…

But…

In that moment…

He was glad he did…

~~~^*^*^~~~

At that very moment, there was an ear shattering crack as if lightning struck directly from the heavens into the clearing; and, in a way, it did.

A searing, grey light shot out from the distant trees and set a crate of supplies ablaze, practically shattering the wood on impact. Both Ordin and Imitari jumped at the sudden attack, rising instinctually to their feet to face this unknown individual and their show of strength.

The two Ordin who had come to torment Haryk and O’Kairyn were the first to approach the flames, which were grey and burning with an unparalleled ferocity to any field fire they had witnessed.

“What do you suppo-” The first didn’t have time to finish his sentence because, in the same moment, a secondary flash burst through the darkened forest and began to burn him. He howled in pain and, in a blind panic, ran for the river.

Other Ordin turned and looked to the trees, now prepared for an attack. The second who had tormented the two caged Imitari stormed over and seized the bottom of the cage. In the meantime, Haryk had relinquished his grip on O’Kairyn’s neck while O’Kairyn had pushed himself to his feet. The cage beneath them jolted and they collided harshly against the metal bars.

“Where are your little friends hiding, huh?” he shouted in Common, making both Imitari wince and shy away from the booming voice. The other Ordin yelled at the top of their lungs and charged into the woods, swinging their weapons wildly high and low in hopes of revealing the Imitari responsible.

“Th-ther-re sho-shouldn’t be anyone e-else,” stammered Haryk. The Ordin’s dark brown eye squinted in suspicion. Another crackling bolt of flame flew past the Ordin in the woods and, this time, hit the cart with their precious “harvest.” In moments, the flames had engulfed the entire cart and ate through the ropes tethering the horses to it.

The Ordin cursed and charged after the horses, obviously seeing there was no saving the cart or their quarry inside. Despite their retreat, the onslaught didn’t cease. Three more grey bolts of flame shot from the depths of the forest and ensnared their prey, making the Ordin collapse and writhe as the flames ate away at their flesh.

Haryk, seeing this, screamed and clutched the edges of the bars. His family, every single one, was probably in that cart if they weren’t gone already. He sank to his knees in utter defeat as the Ordin who was holding onto their cage spat and stood his ground.

O’Kairyn, on the other hand, stayed kneeled on the base of the cage in awe.

Was this really happening? O’Kairyn didn’t know. What he did know rested in he saw moments later after three more blazing grey lights bolted from the forest to the remaining three Ordin who thought they had a prayer of escape.

A figure – a single individual – stepped from the cover of the woods.

There was a grey mask over their face and armor he had never seen before strapped to the frame of this figure. A hooded cowl rested over their shoulders and just barely over the mask. There were no eyes on this mask, but this figure didn’t need to see to possess the intimidating presence they brought with them.

Grey flames licked the edges of the armor and seemed to swirl around this individual. A single dagger clutched in hand, they crouched and directed their attention to the sole remaining Ordin among the group.

There were rumors… but to see it… to see an Ordin turning on their own, especially an Ordin with Essevi… to aid an Imitari… was overwhelming, breathtaking even.

The Ordin, seeing his fallen comrades, clenched his teeth and roared as he charged the figure with the jagged short sword in his right hand. O’Kairyn stumbled to the edge of the cage and watched as the figure crouched and, at the last moment, rolled toward the sword, sliding the dagger up the length of the blade before slipping it over the guard and slicing a thin strip from the top of the Ordin’s fingers.

The flames around the figure blazed brighter as the Ordin howled in pain and swung wildly, but the figure laid backward against the ground before springing up and in one, swift motion, shoved the dagger under the jaw until the tip cracked through the top of the Ordin’s skull.

The figure, standing next to the Ordin, was moderate in stature, but obviously more lithe. Letting the Ordin fall to the ground, the figure stood perfectly still before directing their attention to the small cage still dangling aloft.

This figure stepped up to the cage and stared long and hard at the figures inside. Haryk, now beside himself, skittered to the furthest corner while O’Kairyn could only drag himself closer.

“W-w-what are you doing? Get away! Murderer!” wailed Haryk. O’Kairyn forced himself to his feet to come face to face with this new Ordin figure. Unlike any other Ordin he ever faced, this one possessed an alluring presence. Also, unlike any other Ordin, O’Kairyn knew this figure’s name; at least, if the stories were true, he knew their name.

“Shena Dorra,” said O’Kairyn, barely able to draw breath as he stood near such a force. The figure simply nodded once before lifting their right hand and pointing at O’Kairyn’s injured arm. The Imitari knew without being asked what Shena Dorra wanted and obeyed without question. He forced his arm through the bars, clenching his teeth as pain twisted its way through his limb.

“What are you doing?!” shrieked Haryk, now speaking in Tarian. “It’ll bite off your…”

But before Haryk could finish his sentence, the figure, Shena Dorra, gently touched the injured arm with the tips of their gloved fingers. Haryk watched, paralyzed in fear, as O’Kairyn’s arm burst into grey flames, but O’Kairyn made no sound. Was it shock that O’Kairyn was experiencing? Haryk didn’t know.

All he knew was in a momentary spark of bravery, he leaned forward and grabbed O’Kairyn’s free arm and tugged him backward away from the masked Ordin surrounded by grey flame.

“Hurry! We need to put it out. We need to…”

“It’s okay. I’m alright,” said O’Kairyn, voice saturated in wonder. He rotated his left arm and watched the armor burn away while his arm remained untouched. The deep bruises and pain subsided as the flames seeped into his flesh, healing him. He directed his attention back to the figure, who was still just outside the cage and, in reverence, fell to his knees and bowed.

Haryk didn’t know what O’Kairyn was doing, but it was obvious he knew something about this figure. Following O’Kairyn’s lead, Haryk also sank to his knees and bowed.

“Thank you, Shena Dorra. Please, let me help you bring justice for my people. Use me as you see fit,” said O’Kairyn humbly in Common, keeping his eyes averted and speaking as though this were a prayer to the Spirits. How could he not? His once hopeless heart, which had accepted death, had been ignited once again, and it was because of this person.

Then, in Tarian, Shena Dorra replied.

“Keep at your good work and bring every Imitari to the West. Flee. Save and protect them. The worst is on the horizon.”

Their voice was low and sounded like the whisper of a crackling flame.

With that same single, swift motion, jabbed the dagger clutched in their hand in between the bars, breaking the lock in an instant. Their hands reach above and cut the rope keeping the cage aloft. Then, they lowered the cage to the soft earth below. Before turning and walking toward the still burning wooden cart, they scratch a few of the symbols and sigils with the edge of their blade, breaking the seal on O’Kairyn’s Essevi.

O’Kairyn went to step out of the cage when Haryk reached forward and grabbed his hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked in Tarian. “You’re just walking out there? With that other Ordin?”

“Yes,” stated O’Kairyn briskly.

“But… that Ordin has Essevi. That means…”

“I know what it means,” O’Kairyn interrupted. “But I also watched this Ordin attack and kill its own. They healed me. One of us had to die, yes, but they are protecting us with that ability now. I will take an Ordin turncoat over an Imitari traitor any day.” The comment was meant to sting, and O’Kairyn would apologize later. For now, there were more important things to do.

With that, he stepped away from Haryk. Connected once again to the extraordinary gift he possessed since birth, O’Kairyn stepped out of the cage, fearless in Shena Dorra’s presence, and watched as they sheathed their weapon and walked into the burning grey flames surrounding the cart. They began setting the cages trapping the Imitari inside just outside of the cart on the ground; and, to O’Kairyn’s amazement, every single Imitari was untouched by the fire.

He knew now that the flames were not only a diversion, but a deterrent. It was a defensive play, keeping the Ordin from entering and abducting any more lives. O’Kairyn worked frantically to break the locks and scatter the sigils keeping them hostage.

As he helped usher others away and guide them toward the stream for them to cross, he saw Haryk surrounded by individuals who he could only assume were his family. A smile tugged onto his face, relief forcing a clenching ache in his heart.

His eyes then turned to the woods just in time to see the fading grey flame of the figure vanish from sight.

Shena Dorra.

Grey Flame.

The Ordin Betrayer.

Guardian of the Small.

O’Kairyn wished he could’ve thanked them once more, but something told him this was not the last time he would see this individual. Though hundreds of questions surged in his mind, his heart told him that this Ordin understood that what was happening to the Imitari was wrong, and that justice would be swift.

More importantly, Shena Dorra’s words rang in his ears.

Bring the others to the West.

Save and protect them.

The worst is on the horizon.