• • Raydorn: The War in the Black
• July 28, 2024

Raydorn: The War in the Black (Chapter 62)

“Sometimes we must make do with where we want to be.”

Chief Alabasta of the Hotun, 448 A.C.A.

---

Stealth was supposed to be the unquestionable hallmark of an assassin, but in recent days Malum had found his abilities and those of his shadows lacking. Tonight, he could not fail.

He had promised his allies that he could find the people under their care a new place to call home, safe and away from those who knew where they were. He had not been promised trust in return.

When dark mass left his tent, they did a good job following a mass that could barely pass as a man. The cultists kept their watch, and unlike a shadow, they did not follow but pass the buck. They focused in on their target and signaled for the next to keep track of where the dark mass was moving. 

When a predator couldn’t follow the prey on the foot, they had other predators waiting in the midst to mark its path. They followed this prey by its shadow, and when it found its little spot between the rocks where few men would tread, they sent word to the leader.

Astrid made her way down the rocks in the middle of the night, hours before the others would wake, expecting to catch Malum in the act. She set out to know what it was he kept so close to his vest, to have her suspicions confirmed, and when she turned around the cliffside path all she could see were the waves crashing against the rock path.

All she smelled was the sea salt, and the air of shit through it all.

A foot met her back and knocked her to the ground. The fall to the rock hurt more than the blow, depriving Astrid of any sense of urgency as she turned around.

She saw a cloak and two arms crossed before her chest. Everything was wrong. 

The height, the color of her arms, and the mask on her face, were not of the man Astrid sought. 

“Now we’re even,” Sigma told Astrid, before disappearing into the night with a flap of her cloak.

“That…” Astrid muttered as the sea sprayed water in her face. Even as frustration boiled, the urge to laugh burned hotter. “That son of a bitch.”

*****

Malum was somewhere else entirely amongst the isles, where there was still sand beneath a plateau, and barely a tree left for a fire. All of it was necessary, but nothing more necessary than the fact that he was alone.

No great prophets to hound me.

The pile he made for the fire was less than stellar, and the flint stick he had was well-worn. Yet, by the nature of the summon and that of his own birth, it took only a single swipe to raise a paltry flame. 

One would expect a ritual or a chant to be whispered to the flames like a lover, or screamed through shrill lungs like a fearing believer, but Malum Chun was neither. 

He merely took his seat by the fire and waited.

He did not have to wait long.

The fire shimmered in such a way that one might think a flame could shudder. It’s color shimmered as the smoke refused to rise. It lacked that which fundamentally made it smoke, and could only look towards a sky it would not know.

Then the smoke lost what little form it had, withering away, stolen by something worse than a man.

His wings were that of doves, one white and the other black, nothing but a ruse. His skin was far paler than even the most sun-starved of the Krones, and his hair as dark as his complexion was light. He may have had the form of a man with wings, but he was crafted as if from marble. It was assured that no mortal eyes would ever mistake him for anything less than divine, but never a divinity worth praying to.

In the shadow cast by the fire, the first thing to finish its materilization was his wings, and the last was his smirk.

What makes the devil so happy?

The being that threatened to make Malum’s skin crawl, clapped his hands in some sort of glee…

… and his name was Koder.

“My beloved son, you look well enough,” he told Malum, his red eyes shining through the fire, “better than the last time I saw you, though that was when you were trying to escape with my wife.” 

Malum’s hands did tighten as one would expect. In fact, they seemed to lose even more of what little energy they had left.

Koder opened his arms as if half-expecting the assassin to embrace him. “I’d ask you if you regret it, but you are my son, and it’s not in our nature to regret.” 

Koder waited for his son to respond from behind the mask, for it hid nothing from him. The only way to hide was to remain silent, for every word revealed a secret.

“The silent treatment?” Koder asked, as if he didn’t already know. “That seems rather unintuitive.” 

Koder moved towards his son’s back, the ends of his red toga hovering just above the sands. The feathers on his wings fluttered and made Malum’s own stand on edge, fighting to be released from his back.

The god lowered his head but he never touched the ground. He rested his hand upon Malum’s shoulder and his other took his son by the arm, holding him still as he muttered into his ear.

“You called me, clearly needing something, and then you don’t speak a word? Tell me, how are we supposed to build any kind of rapport if my own son won’t even speak to me?” Koder bent his head to the side, pearing through the mask to the expressionless face of his son. “Malum Chun, say something, before I tell you something you don’t want to hear. This isn’t a war you can win with the edge of your sword, even if I stand beside you. 

“You know what, you’re smart… Malum…” 

Malum’s eyes never looked his way.

“Forgive me,” the son said to his father, “you’re talking about a war of words, and I only have a sword. I’m a bit unprepared.” 

Koder chuckled as he released his hold only to clasp his own hands behind his back. The smirk never left his face as he took but a few steps away to let the moon’s rays shine on him. 

“Oh, my apologies, sometimes I forget that you’re far more like me with what goes on in here,” he said pointing to his head, “then you ever were with your tongue.” 

Malum’s remained forever on the fire.

I risk everything by looking him in the eye.

“Would you like to continue catching up,” Malum asked, “or shall I save you the time of asking you what it is I need?” 

Koder shrugged as if this were nothing more thana simple conversation. “I have nowhere to be, take your time.” 

Then the god dispersed into flames, and found himself laying on his side besides Malum. The sand that would dare touch a god was burned into glass, and it was upon glass that Koder rested his hip.

“Actually,” the god chimed with his finger ready to jab, “I’d like your opinion on something if you would. 

“There’s this mind twister I posited to one of the wives, and she didn’t quite get it. You see, there’s all of these sheep and cattle that have washed up on this rock after a great flood, but among them is also a bear, a wolf, and a hawk. In exchange for milk and warmth, the three of them agreed not to eat the sheep and the cattle, and the three predators agreed to each other in turn. 

“So in the morning, the bear launched himself into the river after the fish, a strong enough swimmer to withstand the racing waters of the river. The hawk, of course, flew up across the sky, and able to look down on the rivers and the lakes and catch the creatures scurrying just above the water level and in the trees. At the end of the day, the bear and the hawk came back, to find the sheep and cattle rattled. Unsure as to what happened, they asked the wolf, who shrugged, looking as well fed as the rest. 

“The bear and the hawk shrugged it off too and went out to eat again the next day, and when they came back, the cattle and the sheep were as frightened this day as they were the day before. Again, the bear and hawk ask the wolf, what happened? The wolf shrugged, saying that they had their milk, but other than that, they didn’t speak to the cattle and sheep. 

“Again, the bear and the hawk went out to eat, but decided this time, to come back earlier in the day, and as they had suspected, they found the wolf devouring the corpse of a sheep they had quietly stalked and dragged away. The bear and the hawk questioned the wolf, as to why it had broken his promise. 

“The wolf replied with a question, ‘Why didn’t you ask the sheep what was happening each day, rather than asking me?’ The bear and the hawk were perplexed. To their perplexion, the wolf answered for them. ‘Nobody cares for the opinions of sheep, they only care about the milk.’ 

“Your stepmother didn’t get it.” 

The fingers on Malum’s sword hand flexed and curled.

“I can’t imagine why with how long your story is,” Malum told his father. 

Koder made a rather bemused frown, before shaking his head and chiding his son on the misunderstanding. “It’s not a story, Malum, it’s a mind twister.” 

“That’s just a type of story. Every word that leaves your tongue is just a bit of a story, whether we know it or not. You’re always trying to entertain yourself, and what better way than to craft a story that will twist and break into a long-winded metaphor about the person you’re talking to.” 

Koder’s smirk grew into an all-too genuine smile. 

“Oh, did you project yourself onto the wolf? Don’t you know, a story is for interpretation like any art, it’s what you make of it. 

“I didn’t make you think of yourself as the monster in the story, you did that all on your own.” 

Malum did his best, and the best he could do was speak through hushed words. “Sure I did, is that all, or can I ask for a favor?” 

“A favor? I see you’re still a child pissing in the wind. You know what a favor means.” 

“That I owe you one in turn.” 

Koder began to speak in a rather cold tone, like a broker reading the terms of a contract. “Yes, within the century, and you may not deny me my wish. Should you try, your will is forfeit, and the only thing I cannot make you do is the very thing you refused to.”

The man behind the contract was quick to return with a flicking gesture of his hand.

“Usually I don’t call on favors so quickly, but the way this century is going, I’ll be calling for it sooner rather than later.” 

Malum was no neophyte. He cut at the heart, asking, “What is it?” If only he had struck true.

Koder refused Malum the information he desired. “I haven’t even been told what you want for yet.” 

“Let’s not play this game, you always have a favor to ask. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t answer the people asking for a favor from you. I know how you work. It took me a long time, but I know you.” 

The shifting smirk on Koder’s face fell the moment Malum claimed to know anything about what could not be seen with his two eyes, and not even then. 

“Son, you could know me better than any man knows his wife, and still not understand me at all. One does not simply understand… 

“Evil.” 

“Agree to disagree.” 

That made Koder laugh, and throw his arms into the air. “Hahaha! Yes, agree to disagree! A good way for you to runaway, that is so very you.”

He checked a timepiece that wasn’t actually there.  

“It appears I have given you much of my time,” Koder chimed, marking when he decided the conversation was over. 

And without provocation or explanation, he told Malum, “What you seek lies due southeast of the tallest peak of the Isles, an underground city of those who worshipped the False Light.” 

Malum made his first move and rubbed his chin. For once, he had something to think about beyond fighting the urge to draw his blade. “An underground city… that’s definitely a better hiding place than than unfortified islands.” 

“You’re not going to ask how I knew what you wanted?” 

“Why bother asking about something I’ll never understand?” 

There was an unspoken compliment sent Malum’s way at that comment.

“Hmph, I’ll call on you for your favor soon enough, but first, you better lead the sheep to their slaughter.” 

Koder disappeared into flames, leaving behind smoke that would fall to the ground and become ash. 

Malum let out the breath he had been holding, but not before noticing how his other hand still shook, how it ached.

Then he looked to the fire, and let loose his wings. 

He sent the measly pieces of wood into the ocean, letting the darkness of the cliff above him smother out all he could see.

*****

“You know,” Quinus loudly whispered to his friends, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Malum help pack a ship before today.”

“That bastard always seems to find something else to do,” Lucy joked alongside him.

“Does he? I usually just find him standing around,” Astrid added, her arms crossed at the thought.

“You mean like you guys are doing?!” Jack yelled as he walked past them with a crate in his arms.

“We’re taking a break!” Astrid yelled.

“Uh huh!” he said back.

Malum set down a bundle of grain on the ship as his compatriots ended their break. Then he looked out at over a hundred people, maybe two. He saw those who were packing and readying the ships for the refuge he promised…

… and those who had chosen to stay.

It was always a safe bet that not everyone would come, mostly among the Icee, but… I expected more, he thought to himself, before looking to over at over a hundred or so people readying to join their ships, either on the three frigates, the Icee fishing boats, or the paddle boats attached. Though, a part of me also expected there to be less.

The Icee already numbered a couple hundred when they arrived as exiles. Between the first Hotun ship they freed, and the several more they would free over the months, the Hotun nearly matched their numbers. That, in addition to the Black Legion who fled here and were already stationed, they were around half a thousand. 

Now it was being split in half. 

Malum felt he needed to ask them one more time.

Words did not need to be wasted as he both floated and walked through the crowds, moving fast yet not sprinting. Even though they were not coming, the chiefs of both the Hotun and Icee were helping those who wanted to leave.

Amongst the moving crowd, Malum was unseen until he wasn’t.

The dock had been expanded since they’ve been away. It was wider, and could handle demonstrably more weight. Dozens of people carrying things were able to stand on it.

As Chief Keona and Basta were trying to convince a young one to let two old men help them, the young man turned around and screamed in shock. He fell and dropped his things, only to make the chiefs turn around and squeak at the sight of Malum standing there.

Still got it.

“Apologies,” the assassin said before helping the man to his feet with one hand, “but I need to speak with you two again.”

“I’m sure I can guess as to what,” Keona said as he began to pick up what the young man dropped, despite his protests.

“I know you both have reason not to trust me-”

Basta waved his hand to stop him almost immediately. “Malum, no, I can’t emphasize this enough, no.”

“We trust you,” Keona said, reaching out lay a gentle hand on Malum’s arm, finding it even underneath the dark cloak. “We believe you even, we believe that this city… Fadrian… exists.”

Malum was a quiet as he looked down at the chief’s warm hold on him. It only quieted the assassin for a moment. “Then why won’t you come?”

“This is home,” Keona said so simply, “even if it may not be as safe as it once was.”

“Shouldn’t home be safe?”

“Of course,” Basta said, “but sometimes it isn’t, sometimes it can’t be, and sometimes we must make do with where we want to be.”

Is there anywhere that I want to be?

Malum turned away, his thoughts begging to be alone with him even while he was surrounded by people. How can I be the one to lead these people? A navigator, maybe, a protector, possibly, but a leader?

I barely lead my own shadows nowadays.

“<You are troubled by something more than a lack of safety.>” Basta fell into his mother tongue as he raised his wizened finger towards the black mass of shadow. “<Reading you has always been difficult, Malum, you have been one of darkness for so long, but to do the job you must now do, you must do so from the light.>”

Keona’s eyes focused as his mind worked to understand his love’s mother tongue. Malum did not struggled to speak it back.

“<You may see through me yet,>” Malum admitted, turning away from the thoughts that long for his attention.

“<I never like that phrase,>” the Hotun chief told him, “<you cannot see through people, that would imply that they do not exist to you, and you very much exist to me. What is it you fear that this old man can take to his grave?>”

“<Do not leave me yet, old man,>” Keona told him, catching enough of what his partner was saying. 

“<Oh, I… what do you call it?> A jest?”

Malum chuckled, the ability to that being a magical thing. The assassin considers to himself, This may be my chance, my way to convince them, to guilt them into saving themselves. The assassin told himself what he needed to hear.

“<I… I fear leadership.>”

“<Too late for that!>” Basta laughed, as if Malum’s admittance was something so normal.

“<I am a leader of battle, of espionage, assassination, but I cannot lead a community, and my allies will be split to the wind. I can find them a safe home, oversee construction, but I cannot maintain a community. It’s… it’s why…>”

“<Why you want us to come?>” Keona said in his own mother tongue, a realization that had the old man stroking his beard. “<What does safety matter if there is no happiness, no community? No one to help find the problems, no one with the ability to treat them.>”

“<Exactly,>” Malum agreed, switching tongues the way a chameleon changes its colors. “<I know you two don’t want to leave, but I need someone’s help.>”

“<At the very least until one of the others return from saving Andelyn,>” Keona seemed to agree, and the smirk underneath Malum’s mask grew.

It quickly fell away to the guilt he felt as Basta struggled to hide how crestfallen he was. “<You… you think we should go?>” he asked his partner.

Keona responded as a chief. “<I believe one of us should go, and the other stay here, at least until this new home is ready.>”

The mind of a true leader at work, able to think of a compromise that leaves everyone a bit bitter.

“<It’s not as if all lines of travel are to be cut off,>” Malum told the other chief. “<We should be trading and communicating, traveling between both shelters once we can establish safe paths between.>”

Such words did not raise Basta spirits, only his eyes towards Malum’s. Despite his own words, Basta sees right through me, but what can he do?

“<I should go,>” Keona told him.

Basta looked even more shocked. “<What? This is your home, it has always been your home.>”

“<Exactly, in my old age I have never been anywhere new. I… I’ve never had the opportunity, but when I was younger I wanted to see more beyond the Pearl Isles. This may be my best chance.

“<And where we travel is near your old home, a place of pain for you. I would not ask you to go, and there is no one else I trust to look after my home, my heart.>”

Keona places his hand where his heart would be, and Basta nearly reached out to take it, but then placed it over his own.

“<I promise, my heart.>”

Keona nodded and told Malum, “I will hurry to pack. At my age, you don’t need many things, but many things keep you from needing many things.”

The chief kisses the other on the cheek before making his way… leaving Basta with Malum.

As Malum turned to leave, Basta’s words snared him in place. “Do not think I do not know what you did here, Malum. I hope you will not lie to yourself in the future.”

Malum looked back, but it was Basta who had already turned his back on him. The assassin watched the chief walk away over his shoulder, as guilt weighed on his tongue, driving off any semblance of a smirk.

The ships were almost done being packed with supplies, but some of his allies needed to leave even before then. Astrid had finished packing her wild bird and Lucy was still taking the time to say her goodbyes to Quintus.

Malum was quick to join them.

Unlike the chiefs, only Jack was surprised by his sudden appearance.

Can’t win them all.

Jack jumped, dropping the last of the grain he was carrying as he attempted to see Astrid and Lucy off as well. “Fucking Hedone, Mal,” Jack cursed, “can’t let a guy know you’re walking behind him?”

“Nope.”

It was a comment to make Quintus chuckle. From within his embrace, Lucy asked the assassin, “Here to see us off?”

“I wanted to finalize the plans before we all separate,” Malum said.

“Afraid we’ll forget?” Astrid taunted him.

“I don’t think you’ve remembered a plan even once,” Malum reminded her.

“Pish posh.”

Quintus turned and opened up a cloak of his own, though he remained shirtless underneath. “Well, lay down the law.”

The plan wasn’t even simple on paper. Astrid and Lucy were to fly towards the Soday Mountains where Lucy would look for the underground river. From there they could head through the mountain path to attempt to find the site of Amidala’s ritual. If they did, they could plan a surprise attack, potentially free Andy. Such a trip would take several days just to get to the mountains, even by flight. There would be pitstops on the way.

Of the two of them, Astrid groaned at the time it would take, as if it wasn’t her plan to start.

Quintus, Jack, and Malum were going to set sail for the coast of Seca. From there, Malum — now with Chief Keona to help — will lead their people to the city of Fadrian, a name Malum pronounced with familiarity, and the others… with hope. From there they split off, and send half their ships back to the Icy Pearl Isles while they looked for shelter. They would reach land by nightfall, but the walk would be a few days, and summer in the desert was hot.

Rather than take the sails of the Black Legion to either of their destinations, Quintus and Jack would quickly make their way to Artis, and get transport to the Kronish city of Oren and the Golden Plateau respectively, each to ask someone for help. 

“It’s four bad plans in one, but here’s hoping collectively, that they can make a difference,” Malum told them.

“Eh, I feel like your relocation plan isn’t too connected to the others,” Lucy pointed out.

“Many things that are connected don’t appear so on first glance,” Astrid said, before shrugging her shoulders and climbing aboard her bird monstrosity.

“She’s just gonna drop that piece of wisdom and bolt?” Jack chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“We should hurry,” Quintus noted as he helped Lucy into the saddle behind Astrid, “Andy is counting on us.”

Lucy did not let him go without a kiss. “Yeah, and don’t break my boats while I’m gone, I’ll kill you.”

“I thought it was a ship,” Malum quipped.

“Fuck off.”

As soon as she sat up straight, Astrid flicked the griffin’s reins without much sense for patience. The beast known as Little Stinky started flapping his wings before the men could get clear, but they saved themselves well enough.

“Later losers,” Astrid said before the griffin took off into the sky, and drew forth more than one scream from Lucy’s lungs.

“I don’t know why I was expecting her to say, ‘Good luck.’”