"So, who's this special man?" the chief continued, completely unaware of the king's slow but mighty anger that threatened to implode the more he spoke. "He can't be more handsome than me, can he?"
Ceremus nearly scoffed at those words.
The more the conversation went on, the more confused Atilla became. Just what in the world is going on here?
Meanwhile, the other men who had accompanied their chief were not the least bit surprised. This was a rather normal occurrence for their leader. It was a trait they could do without, but since Kishar was such a respected figure in the village and the Brotherhood, they had no choice but to put up with it.
There's always a bit of insanity in every genius, after all.
Ceremus, on the other hand, had long since grown tired of the pointless chatter. It was obvious to him that no one here wanted to engage in a fight with him, so he saw no point in staying. Every second they lingered was a second Hael was drawing closer to death. He couldn't afford to entertain them.
Ceremus regarded them for a long moment, then, without warning, turned his back and strode toward his horse.
"If you gentlemen have nothing else, we will be taking our leave," he said calmly.
Kishar's brow arched, but instead of taking offense, he laughed—a rich, full-bodied sound. "Oh, I like you."
Orion, however, was far less amused. His fingers twitched slightly, as if resisting the urge to reach for his weapon. "You still haven't told us why you are here. These regions are part of our territory, and—"
Kishar raised a hand, stopping Orion mid-sentence. Orion looked at him questioningly but steeled himself at the stern look on his face.
"Dear traveler, if you tell us the purpose of your visit, perhaps we could be of some assistance. As my Vice-Chief mentioned, the mountains are part of our territory—a region we know well. Please, allow us to aid you on your journey."
Ceremus mounted his horse with effortless grace before casting a glance at Atilla. Atilla hesitated, uncertain whether to divulge their plans, but when Ceremus gave no indication otherwise, he decided to proceed.
"We are here to find someone. A man who goes by the name Tiresias." That was all he said.
He made sure to leave out the reason they needed to find him, thinking it wise not to mention the plant they desperately sought.
The air shifted.
For the first time since their encounter, the easy mirth drained from Kishar's face, replaced by something far more serious. His sharp gaze flickered between Atilla and Ceremus, assessing, calculating. Orion's reaction was even more telling—his body stiffened, and his hand curled into a fist at his side.
The name Tiresias carried weight.
Ceremus, ever observant, did not miss the way the other men exchanged wary glances. Some visibly tensed, their expressions ranging from surprise to concern. One man at the back even looked away, as if afraid of being dragged into the conversation.
Atilla frowned. "You know him." It wasn't a question but a statement.
Kishar let out a slow breath before clicking his tongue. "That was not at all what I expected to hear, dear traveler."
Atilla's hand twitched near the hilt of his sword. "Why?"
Kishar tilted his head, considering them for a moment before turning to Orion. "Well? What do you think?"
Orion's jaw tightened, but after a moment, he nodded. "You speak of the Elder, correct?"
"The Elder?" Atilla echoed, shooting a questioning glance at Ceremus, but the king remained unreadable.
Kishar's easy smile returned, but this time, there was a shadow lurking beneath it.
"Come along then, travelers from the east. You've stepped into the mountains seeking a ghost. If you truly wish to find Tiresias, you'll need more than just your blades." His voice lowered slightly, the words laced with something close to warning. "You'll need permission."
Ceremus said nothing, merely gripping the reins of his horse. The path had taken an unexpected turn, but he was not deterred. If anything, the flicker of challenge in his golden eyes only grew stronger.
Without another word, the Brotherhood turned, leading them deeper into the mountain pass.
And so, the hunt for Tiresias continued.
~*~
"There's something that's been on my mind for a while now," Hael told Loki as they relaxed by the Santio River, basking in the warm sun.
"What's been on your mind?" Loki asked.
Hael furrowed his brows as his gaze swept over the expanse before them. "That's the thing. I'm unsure of what it is."
"Huh? How can that be? Something preoccupies you, yet you don't know what it is?"
"Precisely."
This answer seemed to stump the bird. "Is it a feeling that's bothering you? An image or a thought?"
The word 'feeling' seemed to elicit a reaction from the giant, making him tilt his head in puzzlement. It's a feeling, then, he thought.
"Can you describe it?"
Hael thought for a moment, but the more he tried to piece it together, the more complicated it became. He wasn't one with words, so explaining it was difficult. But he knew if he didn't try, Loki wouldn't be able to help him.
"…It's like… or rather, it's as if I were a bird," he began.
"A bird?"
"Yes, a bird. I'm soaring through the sky, wings flapping freely, unburdened. I feel happy until something blocks me from flying higher. Maybe it's the clouds obstructing my view, holding me back. The harder I struggle, the less I can fly. Then suddenly, I'm plummeting to the ground, on the verge of… something ending."
"I wonder why I'm trying so hard not to reach the ground. It's as if… if I were to reach it, I'd lose something more precious than my own life."
That night, as Hael drifted into sleep, a vision appeared.
A bird landed in his lap—plumes the color of charcoal, eyes as gold as the apples on the trees. He didn't know the bird, but the feeling it evoked was familiar. He reached out, and the bird flinched. Yet, it remained.
Something deep inside him urged him to befriend it.
Slowly, he extended his palm. The bird hesitated, then finally leaned into his touch. Hael smiled, heart swelling with contentment.
"I don't know who you are, little one, but I feel as though we have a special connection," he whispered. "If you promise to stay within reach, I promise never to let you go."
The bird chirped, as if sealing the vow.
Hael awoke the next morning with tears on his cheeks.
Hael sat up abruptly, his breath uneven as he wiped the dampness from his cheeks. His fingers trembled slightly, still tingling with the memory of soft feathers beneath them. What kind of dream was that?
He glanced around his modest cave, the early morning light filtering through the entrance. Everything was as it should be—his belongings in place, the faint chill of dawn settling in the air. And yet, something felt… different. A lingering warmth curled in his chest, as if the dream had not entirely left him.
He touched his lap absentmindedly, half-expecting to feel the bird still nestled there. Ridiculous. And yet, the weight of his own words echoed in his mind. I shall stay by your side until the very end. A shiver ran through him. A soft knock jolted him from his thoughts.
"Hael?" A voice called from the other side. It was Maximus. Hael exhaled sharply. "I'm awake." His voice was hoarse, and he wasn't sure why. "Brontus is looking for you, he wishes to spar with you," the gorilla said.
Hael swung his legs over the side of his bed, pressing his hands into his lap as he steadied himself. "It was just a vision, merely a dream.." he whispered to himself, as if to assure himself that nothing was amiss.
But as he pushed himself up and exited the cave, his breath caught in his throat. Perched on a branch on a nearby tree was a small bird, its feathers as dark as charcoal, its golden eyes watching him with an unsettled awareness. Hael's pulse pounded in his ears.
The bird let out a single, knowing chirp. When suddenly its ears turned from their beautiful golden colour to a red akin to blood before flying off.