Chapter 19 - Farewell, Father

Iris

“Tar?”

Iris could see Tarros turned around in a pew at the front of the church. At her call, his eyes widened in recognition, and he positively toppled the pew in his race to stand.

They ran towards each other in the center aisle, embracing briefly as the statue of the Goddess gazed on impassively. Iris noticed Tarros had filled out somewhat during their quick hug, his watch guard uniform not as baggy on him as it would have been before she’d been taken.

Hold on, watch guard uniform?

“Why are you wearing the uniform of the watch, Tar?” Iris asked, holding him at arm's length.

He stared at her blankly before looking down at himself and then back at her.

“It’s a long story… ever since you got caught—wait, forget about that! Where the hell have you been?” Tarros asked. Apparently, it wasn’t just his body that had filled out, but his vocal chords as well.

“That’s also a long—”

Aerowyn chose this moment to appear next to the duo, gently placing a hand on Iris’ shoulder while he spoke. “As much as I would love for you two to share stories, Iris, we need to get a move on.”

Evidently, Tarros hadn’t been aware of the older man’s presence, as he firmed his grip on Iris and shoved her behind him, drawing his blade from his scabbard and brandishing it at the King’s advisor.

“Who are you?!” Tarros challenged.

Iris was thankful for her childhood friend’s protective nature. However, Aerowyn was right, now wasn’t the time to catch up, not when there were Oathbound trying to catch up to them at that very moment. Every moment they wasted here gave their pursuers time to find them and take them in, where Iris would no doubt meet the sharp end of a blade, probably personally delivered by the King himself, if she had to guess.

She stepped around Tarros and pushed the hand holding the weapon down.

“Tar, meet Aerowyn. Aerowyn, Tar.”

Aerowyn gave a small nod in greeting, Tarros reluctantly reciprocating the gesture.

“More importantly, have you seen Elder Varron? We need to leave the city, and I don’t think he’s spry enough to be able to come with us, so I’d like to say goodbye and thank him for all he’s done for me,” Iris asked, hoping Tarros had interacted with her one and only father figure since he’d been in the church.

“I haven’t. I’d only just arrived not long before you came bursting in," Tarros said.

She cursed, not wanting to spend too much time here, yet also not willing to leave with some sort of farewell.

At this time of day, when Elder Varron wasn’t tending to the main hall of the church, he was usually within his study going over the scriptures. As time was of the essence, Iris ran to the stairwell behind the statue of the Goddess, going up as fast as her legs would carry her. She reached the door to his study, completely forgoing knocking and shoving open the door.

It was empty.

Tarros arrived at the top of the stairs behind her and looked over her shoulder into the vacant room.

“Where else could he be?” He asked.

Iris thought for a moment before deciding to check his bedroom. The man hated sleeping in, preferring to wake before Rynor’s light graced the sky so he could start his daily activities. Either way, it was worth a shot, plus it was just down the hall. She ran over and opened that door as well. Also empty. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to check her room, she did so, but it was also unoccupied, nothing out of place since the day she’d last walked out of the room.

There was only one place left, but she couldn’t think of why Elder Varron would be down in the wine cellar. He only used that room for when a sermon would also include a baptism, requiring the baptizand to sip on the nectar as a symbolic act of accepting the Mother’s divine blood.

Iris took the stairs back down to the main floor, Tarros hot on her heels, and set off towards the stairs that were partially hidden behind the altar. Colin stood near the entrance of the church, peeking through the crack in the door to act as lookout.

Tarros saw the other man just a little bit older than him, and voiced his curiosity, “Who is—”

“Not now," Iris interrupted, a pit forming in her stomach when she couldn’t find Aerowyn within the main hall. Something was wrong, and every step she took towards the descending staircase fed that seed of distress.

Afraid of what she might find, she arrived at the bottom and saw Aerowyn exiting from the open door to the wine cellar. She paused, subconsciously praying to the Mother that everything was alright. One look at Aerowyn’s face, however, had her in a full-blown sprint towards the opening.

Aerowyn held out his hands to stop her. “Iris, wait.”

“Move!” Iris said, unknowingly guiding Auris to empower her body as she moved Aerowyn to the side, causing the man to almost fly into the wall from the strength of her push. She made it past him and stepped into the room.

Blood.

That was the first thing she saw, even in the dark space, the ambient lighting from the main hall above them just enough to make it out against the dark floor.

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She froze, not willing to follow the trail of blood to its source, yet she forced herself to all the same. There, hunched over against the racks of wine against the walls, was Elder Varron, an eternal moment of despair marring his once kindly features. His robe was bloodied and torn, leaving his chest bare. No visible portion of skin was left untouched by whatever monster had done this. Her mind told her his death couldn’t have been recent, seeing as how his flesh seemed sunken and withered. The smell was the next thing to register in her shocked state, a ripe and overpowering stench that assaulted her nose with hints of old piss, shit, and other intestinal fluids.

Iris blinked and discovered she was kneeling next to the long-dead priest. Someone was screaming a discordant song of lost hope and familial love. How dare they deprive her foster father of peace at this crucial time! Only when she turned around to yell at them to stop did she have the self awareness to figure out it was her that was sobbing. Tears ran in an unending flood down her cheeks, where they fell and failed to mix with the dried blood that caked the floor.

Her pleading for Elder Verron to wake up was met with resounding and absolute silence. The cadaver remained motionless and unyielding in its solitude. At the edge of her awareness, she could feel arms pulling her away from Elder Varron’s body, and she stretched her arms in an attempt to get back to her lifelong father figure. Those same arms turned her around, and she craned her neck, refusing to avert her eyes from the familiar remains.

SLAP!

Iris was shocked back to reality, locating Tarros standing in front of her with a sadness that mirrored her own, though less severe. Her cheek stung something fierce and her hand absentmindedly came up to the spot where he’d struck her.

Seeing the shock and misery in her eyes, Tarros embraced Iris.

She stood ramrod straight, barely able to comprehend what was going on.

“I’m sorry, Iris, but he’s gone. Aerowyn has told me about what’s going on. We need to leave as soon as possible. Come on," Tarros muttered, pulling back and taking her by the hand, guiding her out of the room.

For all Iris knew, it may have to do with the numbness tainting her emotions, but she didn’t resist as she was led out, passing Aerowyn, who gently closed the door behind her. They returned to the main hall and walked back to the entrance. Colin took note of Iris’ faraway stare and swollen eyes, but was waved off by Aerowyn before he could comment.

“Listen everyone, the minute we step out these doors, we need to get to the stables of the southern gate. No distractions, no stopping, nothing but everyone’s top speed. Understood?” Aerowyn said.

Iris nodded alongside everyone else. Her mind was still clouded and her emotions muddled all the same. Even so, she acknowledged the danger they were in and would follow the rest of the party. They were nice enough to go this far for her, and she would not see such goodwill go to waste because of her own turmoil.

Once everyone was ready, Colin took point and counted down from three. When he reached one, they shot out from the church in the direction of the southern gate. A brief shout could be heard from behind them, but they didn’t turn around to see who it had been, each of them well aware of the stakes of the chase.

Aerowyn, Colin, and Tarros started to pull ahead of Iris as they each tapped into their magic. Not to be outdone, Iris allowed her burgeoning anger to be the fuel for her internal Auris, roughly empowering her body to push beyond its mundane limits. The energy coursed through her, providing comfort to her warring mindscape as she sped up, now keeping pace with the others.

Colin directed a minute nod of approval her way, likely not wanting to resort back to carrying her like he had during their palace escape. Iris was sure he would do so, if the need arose. However, having the opportunity to push herself, pumping her legs and letting her feet violently strike against the ground as she ran helped center herself.

In the end, they made it to the outermost wall without incident. They didn’t dally, and Aerowyn ushered them to the stables just inside the gate, paying the owner a handsome sum for a total of two equilds without prior reservation. Four would have been ideal, but alas, luck wasn’t on their side.

For all that they may have been in the Reaches, the small barn housing so many equilds was more well maintained, even guarded to prevent those with ill will from stealing such prized mounts. After all, equilds were apparently notoriously hard to catch in the wild, and breeding tame ones was said to be difficult at best.

Thankfully, the owner nor the guards stationed at the stables were unaware they were assisting fugitives of the kingdom, so they were helped just the same as any other paying customer.

The stableboy helped saddle the two mounts in no time, and Iris approached the one Colin was already seated upon. As he held out a hand to help Iris, she couldn’t help but warily take in the majestic creature. The beast was quadrupedal in nature, four long yet powerful legs that could eat up extended treks for breakfast supporting a sleek plumed body. Short feathers swayed in a breeze that almost seemed like it came from the equild itself. Along the back of its neck was a mane of more pronounced quills, Iris once hearing they helped the beasts navigate and control the wind around them through a more primal and instinctual use of Auris.

As if the equild could sense her attention, it trilled at her through its sharp beak and flared its mane.

Iris clasped hold of Colin’s proffered hand and used his assistance to swing her leg over the double saddle, firmly mounting the creature until it swayed somewhat from the extra weight, causing her to wrap her arms around Colin for balance.

Aerowyn and Tarros were already atop the other equild, Tarros looking like he was debating running the entire way to their destination rather than sit on the large animal.

Prior to leaving the stables, the owner and the stableboy each attached extra bags to the equilds, Iris later finding out they were provisions which Aerowyn had managed to ask for with his generous pocket of coin.

They rode out of the city from the stables, the gate right next to the building, and Iris was finally able to immerse herself in her feelings. Where she had previously felt sorrow and despair at the loss of Elder Varron, now she only felt a torrential inferno of resentment for those who had harmed the priest. The difficulty was knowing who to level her anger towards.

There wasn’t a chance under Rynor’s rays that it had been a member of the Reaches, not even the underground gangs being a possibility. Sure, they were known to be a ruthless bunch: scamming, robbing, and killing those they set their sights upon. However, Elder Varron’s existence had been so ingrained into their society in the lowest district, many who lived within the Reaches had been a recipient to the priest’s help at some point or another, even members of the gangs. In his eyes, he had rigidly believed no one was below saving. For some, he had given guidance when they were at their lowest mentally or spiritually. For others, he had provided a brief place to stay, or food when they were on the verge of dying from starvation. When the Reaches became flooded from the poor drainage system, Elder Varron had time and again allowed people to shelter within the church, its elevated foundation keeping people dry and safe from disease.

Without that information of who the culprit was, Iris could only aim her hostility at the King and Queen once again. She also reserved some of her ire for the Goddess, who had allowed for such a devout follower to be killed in cold blood. Why had a man so set in his worship been victim to such a brutal demise? Why didn’t the Mother guide him even once, possibly saving him from that savage fate, especially when he served her every single damned day?

They rode into the plains leading away from the capital city of Primlon, the loping gait of the equilds absolutely devouring the distance without trouble. The distant treeline enfolded them within its claustrophobic embrace at some point. Iris didn’t even notice.

Iris paid their surroundings no heed, too busy lost in the recesses of her wrath. They would get to their destination in the days or weeks to come, the timeline didn’t matter to her. What mattered was that she would spend every waking hour getting stronger, and then she would return.

And when she did?

Royalty would fall.

The palace would topple.

Those responsible would fucking burn.