“How do you like me now, Dad,” he said to the answerless air. His father, another fool, but his father he still was. A God among Gods. Brought down not just by his son, but also by his pride and faith in his abilities. A mistake this son was not going to repeat. Despite it all, Izuku loved his father, even in the dark times. A feeling he was unwillingly forced to share with Sho. Likely the only thing left that they had in common.
Tokugawa Izuku was now the only person left from the days before mankind had made it their mission to destroy themselves. The only one left who knew peace maintained only by the will of the people and not the brawn of their army.
It was meant to be this way. He was certain. Why else had he, out of all that had walked out of that era of early human existence, been the one to survive? Was it luck that the eldest son of the God of Dragons was the one who stood here, all the power of the world at his command?
Izuku did not, had not, and would not ever, believe in luck.
Chapter 16
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Welcome to Huan
It had been just over a week since two of the last sons of Tan Torna Qu-ay had left the company of their compatriot and began their dangerous mission north and beyond, to the Blood sea. That week had been, for the sake of abbreviation, very poor.
Not precisely for Johan and the reluctant Esgona, but certainly for their travel associates. In the time since they had left the mountain town, five travelers on this journey north had been lost to illness, accident, and repeated attacks by marauders preying on the disorganized and scared masses that had come their way, including a frail old man who’d gone missing in the night. The bottom of the barrel was always quick to float to the top in times when the water was disturbed.
As they traveled to Huan, Johan had been disheartened to learn that many of the people that had joined them were planning on going deeper northeast, into the Komoky Valley and beyond. From there, only handfuls were going their way, and even they weren’t completely certain on their decision to do so. It could very well end up being just them when the time came to go. Not a hopeful proposition.
There was no avoiding it. That was the way agreed upon with Aryu. With luck Aryu, already finished his fulfillment of that ridiculous promise to the one called Nixon and was starting his journey back. Traveling as straight as possible, he was bound to meet up with them before the time came to make that choice at the divide below the great waterfall. They still intended to stay in Huan as long as possible. Perhaps then the plan could change. If not, they were faced with the long and difficult trek west to the mysteries of the Paieleh River and the Blood Sea beyond. Still, a deal was a deal, and should Aryu not return by then, Johan had no doubts they would follow the course they’d planned.
Well, at least he would.
Esgona, on the other hand, could do whatever the hell he wanted with little to no objection from Johan as long as he kept his childish mouth shut.
Johan couldn’t deny that Esgona had done nothing since they had left to incur his wrath in any way. More to the point, he was helpful to others, kept out of the way whenever possible, and had more than once been seen saving another of their troop when they were in trouble. Johan himself had seen him stand against a much larger bandit from a group that had attacked two days prior. If someone else hadn’t called a general retreat for the devious gang, Johan had to believe that Esgona would have tried his hardest to stand his ground against the man.
Aryu had been right in his general assessment of the boy, just as he was also correct that a week does not eliminate the years of ego-driven torture or the shameful way he had encountered this army that gave chase. It was still something redeeming. Esgona had seen far too much (as had they all, in their own way) to be so easily cast off. Johan was a man now. Men, even so recently forged, must know mercy on some level. On the other hand, this was Esgona, and Johan made certain that he did not forget his place in the small hierarchy of two. He was, and would continue to be until such time as he left their company, a very distant second place, moving quickly to a distant third once Aryu returned.
Esgona had kept to himself, even in times of rest. The caravan was pushing through all day and night, taking on other drivers of the carts and horse or folme teams, making their trip that much, but also that much harder. Sleep came when time and responsibilities allowed it. Esgona could hold his own but still found extended amounts of time on his feet painful. He had begun looping around to different drivers, seeing who sought rest or needed a hand mending lashings and tethers. Johan only saw him in passing a few times a day, if he saw him at all.
How nice it was for Aryu to leave him behind as a parting gift, Johan thought during a moment of rest, riding on the edge of a folme-drawn cart with a handful of others. For Johan there was never really rest anymore. If he wasn’t working, he was thinking. Could they even make it the Blood Sea?
