“You know,” Reven began after a time. “The Fates often have a way of making things work out. They may take a very long and twisted path, but, eventually you end up where you were meant to be. They brought Ajana to me. Azrus knows where I’d be without that blessed woman. Why would she care? Why help a useless drunk? I’ve wondered that. Then I met Serai. Her purpose was not entirely clear to me at first either - still isn’t. But I am starting to see the path. And then they saw fit to send me an urchin. I’ll tell you something though, urchin…”
The bard paused long enough for Kaleo to look up with a heavy sigh and swollen eyes. “What?”
“I don’t think they put you on my path,” the bard grinned. “I think they put me on yours.”
“Why?” Kaleo snorted. To torment me?
“Could be for torment,” Reven smirked, clearly hearing Kaleo’s thoughts. “Or because it was what you needed. You needed to know your father is gone, to face it. But what are the odds of finding a bard in need of
an apprentice at the exact moment that you sought to find your father? If the last five years have taught me anything, it’s to not take anything for granted and live in the moment. The past doesn’t matter. Right now, however… right now matters a great deal, urchin. And, right now, I’m getting sand in places I’d rather not mention.”
Reven stood, dusting himself off before taking the few steps over to Kaleo. Azure was no longer with him, gone sometime in Kaleo’s misery. He looked up at the bard, catching a mischievous smirk on the tirsai’s face.
“I can’t replace what you’ve lost; I wouldn’t try if I could. It isn’t fair to you or the memories you hold so dear. The few memories I do have are treasures. Might be fun to make a few new ones with an urchin at my side.”
He offered his hand, waiting patiently. Kaleo stared at that hand, at tiny white scars that were not there before, the leather thongs wrapped around the man's wrists, and finally looked at the bard, himself.
“I have a name, you know,” Kaleo said, finally taking Reven’s hand. He was hoisted up to his feet, feeling the same grit fall away like dead skin and squirmed.
“I rather like ‘urchin’ better. Simple to say, simple to remember. Kaleo has too many syllables.”
“Three. It has three syllables,” Kaleo argued, following Reven out of the desert.
Chapter Thirteen
Out on the border of the Forest of Talaedra and the road leading north from Joricho City sat a single cottage alone among a rolling field of wild blossoms. It was an anomaly among the blighted landscape surrounding it. Much of the land consisted of burned-out fields or endless acreage of dead grass.
Madhavi had specific preferences, however, gladly using up her personal resources and Power to attain her little slice of heaven. The dragon-born woman admired the wild-flowers from the open window in the cottage’s kitchen. A tea kettle sat atop the fat cast iron oven, the water beginning to rumble as it boiled.
“Madhavi!”
She sighed, turning toward the front door. It could be opened at the halfway point if she wanted to allow a cross breeze through the back door and open windows. It was shut tight now, the steady pounding adding annoyance to the repetition of her name.
“Madhavi!”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, tail lashing as she moved to the door. The top half was unlatched, swinging open on squeaky hinges to reveal her brother’s vexed features on the other side.
“Well, well,” Madhavi purred. “Look who’s come to visit among the simple folks. To what do we owe this rare pleasure?”
“Open the door, Madhavi,” Daemodan sighed. “It is open, MoMo,” she teased. She even went so far as to lean her head on the top of the half- door, waggling her bottom in a childish enticement. Daemodan was not amused. Madhavi snickered as she stood up straight and unlatched the bottom half of the door. Of all her elder siblings, Daemodan was, by far, the one she could tolerate the most. However, that just meant she did not want to incinerate him on the spot. He was several decades older than she, handsome in his own right, and quite easily the smartest creature she knew. He also had the patience of a hyperactive gnat when he was in a mood - as he was now. He walked in to Madhavi’s small haven with someone new right on the edge of his luxurious tail. The man was clearly another of her brother’s pet projects; he had a downcast expression and black spider veins creating a mask over his eyes and down the sides of his pale neck.
“New pet, MoMo?” Madhavi asked. She closed the bottom of the half-door, letting the breeze blow through her small home. “He looks broken.”
“He won’t speak,” Daemodan sighed with such exasperation that his wings twitched in a wide spread that nearly knocked over Madhavi’s cooking shelf. She glared at him, scooting past her brother to remove the tea kettle from the stove before it began to scream.
“Could be worse,” she said, pouring three mugs of scalding water before adding several spoonfuls of tea leaves to each hand-glazed mug. “He could be like Roth.”
Daemodan glared. He looked over at his new creation then back at Madhavi. She knew what he wanted. He’d asked the same of her for Jaysen and his hunters. He’d asked
