The next ten days were uneventful, to say the least, much to Rayner’s dismay and the joy of both himself and Cedric. There were no bandits, no monsters, and most importantly, no undead hordes descending upon the village of Aurelia Silva. It was a job well done, and both of them had their fill of adventure and excitement for a lifetime until the next job came. Although he enjoyed the local festivities and the initial celebration of him slaying the necromancer, the food, the drink, and the dancing were to die for, and the feeling of being idolised and worshipped as a hero by the locals felt good. It was the type of feeling that stroked the ego. However, Tharos knew he couldn’t stay here. He had more important things to attend to. After the buzz wore off, it was time to get down to brass tacks. Instead of amassing extra silver for this great deed, Tharos decided to request only one thing from Nico. He asked to be allowed to loot the mage’s study at the homestead. Though Nico was reluctant, Tharos convinced him, and Nico couldn’t reasonably deny such a request.
For the next few days, Tharos spent his hours sorting through Faustina’s extensive library and choosing which books to take with him on the road. Most of them were about medicine, various plants, and, to Tharos’s surprise, a few romance novels. Some of them were quite good, if he was honest, although he wasn’t very familiar with this literary trend of noble ladies having affairs with men below their station. However, the raw passion and drama in these books made them a delightful read, and he could sense the lingering feelings that Faustina had while reading them.
Perhaps I can use these books for barter in trade. Tharos thought to himself as he flicked through the pages, absorbing every single minute detail.
In fact, throughout this entire house, hidden within the cosy and homely atmosphere, he could sense a wide range of emotions, from happiness to sadness, to anger, to grief, and many more. Emotions so strong that he could taste them on his tongue. Sometimes, if he focused enough, he could see snapshots of the lives of the people who once lived here, mere echoes of what was once a house that contained so much life. It was like watching a play while drunk. You could acknowledge that there was stuff going on in front of you, but you were not sound of mind enough to make sense of it. First, it was people whom he assumed were Ozias’ family. One by one, he saw them start to drop like flies, either through sickness, old age, or most tragically, death by war. Until Ozias was the last one standing, all alone in this house until Faustina showed up in his life. At first, it seemed they started as just friends, then trusted confidants, and eventually they became lovers.
Tharos witnessed a lot of things—their casual conversations, arguments, and rather private and intimate moments that he felt slightly guilty for witnessing. Some of it was even enough to make him blush, ever so slightly. However, the fact that he was able to see this, even though these actions and events happened several months to years in the past, only hammered in the fact that whatever they had was special. Normal love would never have left such a strong impression in this homestead, as the very halls, floors, and walls echoed this like ripples in a pond. This was a love that was quite rare—true love. The type of love that people would preach but could never reach, for while love had many layers and aspects to it, many people never got past the more practical and logical aspects of love. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, as true love was a luxury that very few could afford. For the call of one’s own blood and what was practical often took precedence over any idealistic notion of love and romance.
In many ways, people were slaves to their nature, much like he was, and much like all living beings are. The only difference between the human race and mere wild animals is that with a strong enough will, one could, if only momentarily, overturn their nature. But even then, it was a fight against yourself, your most raw and primal self. A fight that you would eventually lose.
However, witnessing this reminded him of someone, more like it awakened something within him, a long-lost memory of the only woman he ever truly loved. Although he wasn’t allowed to love her, he loved her anyway, and she loved him back even though she was bound to another. Salaba was her name. She was a fiery woman with great intellect and passion, but all of that paled before her beauty. Her long, silky brown hair ended in perfect curls that she wore in a ponytail. It shimmered and shined when the sunlight hit it, and if you were to witness this at the right angle, you would see the contrast that the shadows reflecting off it would produce, creating a striking appearance to her hair. Her hazel-colored eyes sparked with a fire that burned brighter than the sun, and her soft and voluptuous figure reflected her gentle and kind heart.
Although he often longed for her, he would never lay with her, as it would betray someone else whom he loved just as much, if not more, than her. However, for Tharos, simply loving her was sufficient, and she understood that. While intimacy could be taken away, love could not, and for Tharos, that was paramount. Perhaps this is why witnessing the shadows of Ozias and Faustina’s past together motivated him to take action, despite considering himself above such behaviour. Life has a way of surprising him, even now. If he had to provide a reason, the main one that came to mind is that they reminded him of her and the connection they once shared, even though it was long gone and buried.
On the final day, just before they were getting ready to leave, Tharos watched as Cenric and Rayner finished up the last thing Tharos wanted to do before they left. He saw Rayner hammering in a tombstone several feet next to Ozias’ tombstone. This tombstone read, “Here lies Faustina.”
“At least they can be together in death. Let’s hope the spiral gives them a second chance.”
Rayner looked at him after wiping a bead of sweat off his brow. “Tharos, not more of this spiel shit. You’re going to give the whelp bad ideas,” Rayner responded, gesturing towards Cenric.
Tharos stood with his arms crossed. “How would you know it’s bad? We never got around to debating the merits of our individual cultures’ views of the afterlife.”
Rayner rolled his eyes. “Talk is cheap. This is the only debate I need.” He picked up his axe, showed it to Tharos, and slung it back over his shoulder.
“Oh,” Tharos replied with his eyebrow raised, turning his head towards Cenric. “Would you agree with this assessment?”
Cenric gave a shrug. “Hey, leave me out of it. I’ve had enough of this talk of death for one day.”
“Understandable, I think we’ve all had enough of death, especially for this little job,” Tharos continued. “Did you manage to…” Before he could finish his sentence, Cenric responded.
“Yeah, I put the wine bottle you gave me into Nico’s wine cupboard like you asked. Why did you want me to do that again?” Cenric asked, looking puzzled.
“No reason at all, it just looked like a fine vintage, that’s all. I thought he would like it, that’s all.” As he said this, Rayner gave him a side eye.
After the exchange, the three of them gathered together and headed to Nico’s house to collect their payment. It was a small bag of silver coins, but it was decent payment by frontier standards, so they couldn’t complain.
“Here are all your coins, Master Tharos,” Nico said, handing Tharos a small bag of silver coins.
“It has been a pleasure, and I wish you well, village elder,” Tharos replied.
“As do I,” Nico said with a warm smile.
After this, the three of them left Aurelia Silva behind and continued their journey towards Sanctus with the bag of silver, the sun shining behind them. A few days later, at a local inn, they heard the news that the village elder of Aurelia Silva, Nico, had come down with a mysterious illness and had died suddenly. At this news, Tharos looked down at one of the empty glass vials in his satchel.
Although Faustina had killed many innocent people during her rampage, she paid for it with her life. After her death, it was Tharos’ responsibility to seek justice. However, there was one person who had not yet been punished, someone who was, in a way, the root cause of all this. If Faustina hadn’t been so grief-stricken by the loss of Ozias and their unnamed, unborn child, perhaps she wouldn’t have committed those acts. People are accountable for their actions and must face the consequences. However, if Nico hadn’t caused Ozias’ death in the first place, this tragedy wouldn’t have happened.
Although he didn’t like poisoning people, he thought it was a fitting death for an ignorant snake of a man who had overstepped his bounds.
Let’s hope the next jobs don’t turn out like this. Tharos thought to himself as he poured himself another glass of wine, while Cenric and Rayner were munching on some roasted goat legs.
The end.
