Private Tales Answers With the Ancestors

[Tal]

He listened to her every word. Watched the movement of her lips, every little twitch in her face, the ways her eyes flickered to him and to the ground and back to him.

A soft smile touched Talmanes' lips as Tigris continued. The lines of blood beneath their feet still casting their soft glow up onto the two Tyrian's. Wildling hand's folded more tightly around his own. His fingers gently squeezing her back as she whispered her final words to him.

There, a moment passed.

Just a single beat of the heart. Long enough to begin to hurt, but scant enough to tear apart any fear as Talmanes let go of Tigris' hands; and then suddenly grasped her hips.

Without a word of warning or reply, the Prince seized Tigris' in his hands. Muscles flexing as he lifted her from the ground and brought her into his embrace. Drawing the wildling close to him, and into a deep and passionate kiss that broke all guards.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris barely had time to register the shift in Talmanes' demeanor before she felt his hands grip her hips, lifting her from the ground as if she weighed nothing. A soft gasp escaped her lips, but it was quickly silenced as he pulled her into a kiss that left no room for hesitation or doubt.

For a moment, Tigris froze, her mind struggling to catch up with the sudden intensity of his actions. She had always been the strong one, the fierce one, the one who stood tall even in the face of overwhelming odds. But now, in Talmanes' arms, she felt something entirely different—something that both thrilled and terrified her.

Slowly, her tension melted away, and she found herself returning the kiss with equal fervor. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pressed herself closer to him. Despite the tears that trailed slowly down her cheeks, every thought, every worry, every fear dissolved in that moment, leaving only raw, unspoken connection.

Her mind had been so busy with thoughts of the journey ahead, of the rains, of what that meant. Of Talmanes and Trista, of her people and her father. But now, Tigris didn't care about any of that, and her mind emptied of everything other than him. All that mattered was the feeling of his lips on hers, the warmth of his body against hers, the way his hands held her as if he never wanted to let go.

 

[Tal]

As their kiss deepened, the crimson beneath their feet began to glow just that bit more brightly. The embrace of two Tyrian's in the hallowed halls of their ancestors almost seeming to spurn on the magic which had taken root.

For so long. For near his entire life, Talmanes had stood as a pillar.

A singular column holding up the weight of what he chose to take on. At first, this had been his own doing. As a miscreant and sybarit he had surrounded himself with sycophants. Men and women who fawned over him, but held no true love. Then his family had thrown him from his home, tossed to nothing and no one. He'd crawled through the wastes, down beneath the earth, and there he'd found his second pillar.

The woman he now held within his arms.

She had taken him, and put back the shattered pieces so that they would once again stand alone.

As their kiss parted, Talmanes chest rose. Their bodies pressing against one another as his grip on her hips turned almost to bruising. As if he were afraid she might step away. "You gave me the strength to be who I am. To do what I needed to do."

As he spoke, Talmanes lifted her from the ground. Picking her up gently and drawing her against himself as he began to kiss her fiercely once more.

"You gave me the will to take back what was mine." The light beneath them pulsed, and as Talmanes arms wrapped around Tigris she would feel him carry her forth to the altar. Magic sparking all around them. "Never doubt your place at my side."

Talmanes demanded as he placed Tigris up on the altar. His touch drawing her close once again as he kissed her once more in reverence. Knowing, knowing to his core, that without Tigris, he would have no pillars, not the three the ancestors has now blessed him with.

 

[Tigris]

As the crimson glow beneath their feet pulsed in rhythm with their hearts, Tigris felt the intensity of the moment consume her, the ancient magic crackling around them like fire. The ancient magic seemed to stir, feeding off the passion and raw energy between them. Blessing them. She could feel it in her bones, an ancient force waking, and she was part of it—no, they were part of it, together.

Her breath came quick and sharp, matching the fierce urgency in Talmanes’ eyes. She let his words seep into her bones, gasped at how fiercely he held onto her. This was no ordinary kiss, no simple embrace—this was a vow, a binding clash that would echo through the halls of their ancestors.

But Tigris needed something more, something that would bind them in the old way, the Tyrian way, where blood sealed every oath and every promise.

As Talmanes’ lips hovered close, she reached down to her side, fingers finding the small bone-carved blade she always carried. She broke away from him just enough to hold his gaze, her golden eyes bright and unyielding. Without breaking eye contact, Tigris lifted the blade to her lower lip. The sharp edge met her skin, and she drew it downward slowly, deliberately. A thin line of blood welled up, the sting sharp but grounding. She didn't wince, didn't falter; she merely exhaled sharply, feeling the heat of the blood as it traced the curve of her lip. The blade clattered to the ground, forgotten, as she dropped it.

The crimson line of blood gleamed in the low light, a mark of her absolute dedication now made visible. Before Talmanes could react, she seized his mouth with hers, the taste of iron mingling with the fire of their kiss. It was fierce and primal, a kiss that claimed and marked him just as much as the blood on her lip. The magic around them seemed to swell, wrapping them in its ancient embrace, sealing them together in a way words never could.

She tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, needing to feel every inch of him, to merge her very soul with his if she could. When she finally pulled back, her lips tinged a vivid red and her breaths ragged, Tigris’ eyes were blazing with a wild determination. “Blood for blood. I am yours, Prince. Now and always." she whispered against his lips, her breath mingling with his.
She didn't wait for a reply, she didn't need one. Instead, she claimed his mouth again, sealing the vow with another kiss, deep and unyielding as she tore at his clothes.

 

[Tal]

Time seemed slow and speed up all at the same time as Tigris and Talmanes fell into their embrace. The soft crimson glow that ran through the intricate lines painting their bare bodies in the colors of their people. Ancient and old magics sealing the vow that Tigris had taken, and the Prince had whispered in turn. "Always."

He breathed, the word echoing not within the chamber around them, but into his very soul.


It was in the dawn of the new day that Talmanes found himself standing at the edges of the Wildling Hold. The Caravan, guided by Trista's hand, was all ready to go. As were the handful of other Tyrian's of the Wilds who had decided to join them upon their journey. All of them friends, all of them loyal to Tigris.

On a platform, on the distant cliffs, the Prince could see his oldest friend still living. Volstus had not yet left, perhaps out of some string of loyalty that still clung between them. The Ogre peered down at Talmanes, and the two locked eyes. For a moment it seemed that neither would break away, but eventually the giant shook his head and turned.

Walking away from the platform, from Talmanes.

The Prince stood, staring up as the Ogre stepped away. A voice behind him nearly making him jump.

"He does not want to see you die." Saen's voice broke across Talmanes' back, and he couldn't help but frown. For a moment more he stood lingering, staring at the cliff until finally he turned to face the man he would have liked to call father.

"He won't." The Prince said softly as he looked to what would be his Chief. "No one will. I will bring the Rains, and I will bring them home."

Talmanes said, glancing towards where the Tigris and the Tyrian's joining them stood. "I promise."

The words were solid steel, almost impossible to argue with. Said not with brash arrogance or hubris, but simple fact. As though it could be no other way. As though it had to happen that way, or there would be nothing else. Because for Talmanes, that was simply how it was.

For a long while Saen stared at him, their eyes like mirrors reflecting the same obstinate bastion. "If anyone can, it is you, but I am sorry son. I must protect my people. I mu-"

His voice broke as he glanced towards Tigris, gaze flickering back to Talmanes with an unspoken plea.

"I would raze this whole world." The Prince said. "To see them safe."

Talmanes looked towards Tigris, then to Trista. "We will come back."

A heartbeat passed, and it was all the time Tal needed to know that Saen would never approve. He would not stop them, but nor would he bless this journey. He had said as much before, but a part of the Prince had hoped. Still, he was here. He did not punish them for their choice. He did not turn his back. He was here to say goodbye.

More than the Prince's own father had ever done.

"If she will have it." Saen said. "I would like to say a goodbye to my daughter."

The Chief continued, offering a small smile before the two trotted down the gentle slope to the Caravan.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris stood at the edge of the caravan, stroking at Tyche's chest before transferring the eagle from her arm to a perch upon the wagon. The weight of the impending journey pressed heavily on her, but she had made her choice, and nothing—not the lingering fear in her heart nor the anger her father had shown her—could turn her from it.

As the chief approached, she frowned gently at his expression. The sternness that had always defined him was softened, if only slightly, by the pain of this farewell. The sight of it made her heart ache, but she steeled herself, knowing that what they were about to do was necessary, and fully expecting him to try and deter her.

There was a moment of silence, the tension palpable; both of them proud, both stubborn. It was Tigris who finally broke the silence, her voice low but steady.

"Father," she said, her tone respectful but firm, "I won’t ask you to approve. But you taught me to follow what I believe in, to protect what I hold dear, and that’s what I’m doing.. This is the right thing to do, I know it is, and I can't bear you being angry with me but it won't change my decision. It'll only cause me heartache." she lifted her chin and drew a deep breath.

 

[Saen]

As Tigris spoke, Saen felt his heart shatter.

Whatever resolve he'd had to stand against this nonsense, whatever words he might have offered to discourage Tigris at the eleventh hour...disappeared. He saw the resolve within her eyes, he heard her words, and in that moment he knew that he had lost her.

If it was for better, or for worse, he did not yet know.

A long, slow breath drew into the old Tyrian's chest. His hands shaking as slowly they rose, fingers lacing gently around Tigris' shoulder. He grasped her, for just a brief moment, and then pulled her into a tight embrace. His arms surrounding her like great cords of wood. "I could no more change your mind than I can force the sun to rise."

The Chief said, weeping almost silently into the locks of her crimson hair.

"You have my heart." He breathed softly. "But your Mother's resolve."

His arms squeezed her tight. "I will wait for you to come home."

Saen breathed. "I will wait for you to come back."

The Chief said, desperation clinging to his tone.

Behind him, Talmanes stood silent. His eyes cast down, and a spark of envy flickered through the Prince's chest. Wishing that his father had said those very same words to him.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris froze as her father pulled her into his embrace. The unexpected warmth and desperation in his arms took her by surprise. Saen had always been so strong, but in this moment, he was vulnerable, and it nearly undid her. She felt his tears wetting her hair, only emphasising just how deep his fear and love for her ran.

Her throat tightened, the fierce warrior within her momentarily overwhelmed by the daughter who had always sought her father’s approval. Tigris closed her eyes, pressing her face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of earth and ash that clung to him. It was a scent that had always made her feel safe, that had grounded her in the most turbulent of times.

But now, it felt like an anchor she had to break free from.

“I will come back,” she whispered firmly.. She squeezed him as tightly as she could, trying to convey through the pressure of her arms what words could not. “I swear it, Father."

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her own tears finally spilling over. The sight of his tear-streaked face, the grief and hope battling in his eyes, broke something inside her. Tigris lifted her hand to cup his cheek, brushing away the tears with her thumb.

“Your heart is what made me strong, and Mother’s resolve is what will bring me home,” she said with a small smile, her voice trembling but determined.

She lingered for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of his embrace, the feel of his strong hands that had guided her for so long. But then, with a deep breath, she stepped back, the cold air rushing in to fill the space between them until she could hug him once more.

She turned to Talmanes, her eyes meeting his.

“It’s time,” she said, her voice steady now, the warrior within her rising once more.

 

[Tal]

Balmanes could not help but watch the scene with a tinge of jealousy. His lips pulled into a smile, as Tigris spoke and Saen embraced her with all the love that he could manage. Yet a part of him couldn't help but yearn from the same, not from the Chief who had accepted him as a son.

But from the man who had thrown him to his death.

When Tigris broke away and caught his gaze, The Prince only dipped his head in a nod. There was nothing more to say, no arguments to be made of platitudes to be offered. Every conversation that had needed to happen, had happened.

With one final glance up towards the plateau where his friend had once stood, Talmanes slowly turned away. He motioned to the Caravan, and called out as he walked. "Today!"

His voice boomed, resounding through the cavern.

"Today we begin a journey made by no man, woman, Ogre'din, or any other in over a thousand years." The tone of his voice was steel. Set with a determination that could not have been broken by the Giants of old. "Walk with me."

He told them. "Follow me!"

Talmanes shouted.

"Return with me!" But not all of them would. "And Herald a new age."

No.

Only three.

 

[Trista]

As Talmanes’ voice rang out with unwavering authority, Trista felt a shudder run through her. His words were a powerful summons, echoing off the ancient cavern walls.. It was the promise of a journey that would carve its mark on history, and she felt a fierce pride swell within her chest to be a part of it.

Her gaze swept over those gathered to follow Talmanes, some faces stricken with awe, others with trepidation.

Stepping forward, Trista raised her chin, her posture resolute, and her eyes burning with a fire that matched Talmanes’ own. The stakes were high, and the path ahead was fraught with peril, but she felt ready.

The caravan was ready, the time had come, and she knew that whatever happened next, there was no turning back, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris watched as Talmanes’ spoke, igniting a fire in the hearts of those gathered. The sheer force of his conviction, the weight of his promise, sent a thrill of excitement and a pulse of determination coursing through her veins. This was the moment they had been preparing for, that she had been hoping for, and now it was time to step into the unknown.

Tigris felt a swell of pride as the people cheered back, and she did too, lifting her fist in celebration. These were her people, her family, and they were ready to stand by the Prince, to follow him into the depths of uncertainty. But it wasn’t just their loyalty to him that drove them; it was their love for each other, and for the land they called home.

Taking a deep breath, Tigris stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Talmanes’.. She knew this journey would test them all in ways they couldn’t yet imagine, but she also knew that they would endure.

"Where you lead, I will follow," she continued, her voice steady and resolute. "We will walk this path, not just for ourselves, but for all those who cannot. We will bring the rains, we will return, and we will reclaim what is ours, and the world will know the power we possess."

There was no hesitation in her words, no doubt. Only the unyielding certainty that they would succeed, because they had no other choice.

 

[Tal]

The words were like a seal forming in place. A guarantee of the future that they would bring. His own had rung through the cavern, but Tigris' echoed within him. There was no other choice. There was no going back. They had made the decision, and the journey would begin that day. Talmanes had set things in motion, and there would be no stopping any of it now.

As they began, a smile drew upon his lips.

It had taken him a decade or turmoil and mire to break the chains that had been carved into his flesh. A decade to arrive here once more with the power to do what needed to be done. As the caravan began to move, Talmanes stood besides Tigris and Trista.

Moving only when the last of the Tyrian warriors fell into line. Stepping into their midst, and beginning once again a journey that would herald a new age for their people. For there was no other choice. They would succeed, or they would die.


The beginning of their journey was quiet. With Tigris at the head, the Caravan moved through the ancient valleys and paths crossed by those of the Wilds for centuries. Moving through the mountains was safe, in a way. Their number kept the terracats away, and most other beasts avoided them.

It would not last for long of course, once they moved further into the mountains and beyond Wyrms, Terko Salamanders, and perhaps even giants would step into their path.

For now though, a certain excited calm still carried through those who had set upon the journey. Some whispering of what Talmanes had spoken of, others openly talking about what they would do upon the return. For his own part, the Prince seemed in good cheer. Spending much of his time speaking with those Tyrian's that had joined them, and often pulling Trista into the very same wake.

On the fourth day, the clouds above began to gather, and despite the heat of the day a soft patter of rain began to fall. "Should we find shelter?"

He asked, knowing Tigris' would point the way. They were not yet out of the mountains, and flash floods might catch them by surprise. Caution might be better.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris glanced up at the sky, narrowing her eyes as the rain began to patter softly against her skin. The clouds overhead were heavy and thick, darker than what the season usually promised, and she knew all too well how treacherous the mountain weather could become. Even with the Tyrians' knowledge of the land, the mountains could turn deadly in an instant. Flash floods, rockslides, and unexpected beasts—there were too many dangers to consider.

She nodded firmly at Talmanes’ suggestion, her gaze shifting to the mountains that loomed ahead. "Yes," she said, her voice steady as she reached to her shoulder where Tyche perched, ever watchful. The bird had been her companion for years, as fierce and wild as she was. Tigris stroked the bird's feathers gently before lifting her arm, sending the eagle into the sky with a sharp whistle.

Tyche took flight to explore the range in search of a safe cavern to rest in. "Tyche will find us a place," Tigris said, turning back to the others. Before long, they were following the bird's call.

Leading the way, Tigris moved with purpose through the jagged terrain, guiding the caravan towards the cavern Tyche had scouted. The rain was beginning to fall more heavily now, and the slick, volcanic rocks underfoot only made the journey more treacherous. But there was a quiet confidence in Tigris as she followed her eagle’s path, the bond between them unspoken yet undeniable.

When they finally reached the mouth of the cavern, she gestured for everyone to enter. The space was vast, large enough to accommodate the entire caravan and their supplies. She glanced up at the ledge where Tyche now perched, her golden eyes scanning the horizon. “Tyche can keep watch over the horses,” Tigris said, her voice steady but sharp. “She’ll let us know if predators get too close.”

“We’ll be safe here for the night,” she added, her voice low but firm. “But stay alert. The rain might stir things in the mountains that don't usually wander this close.”

 

[Tal]

With a gentle grasp, Talmanes pulled Trista up the last face of the cliff edge. Gently guiding her into the cavern before he broke off with a whisper. Knowing that she would see the others settled before he stepped over towards where Tigris waited at the mouth of the cave.

"I'm not so worried about tonight." The Prince said honestly.

The few days had been quiet, and although the rains would stir the ashes he had little doubt they would be able to handle whatever problems crept up. He was rested, and the Tyrian's that had come with them were all able hunters. "It is what we will find tomorrow that worried me."

He said softly, knowing that she was the only one who could yet understand.

"It'll be the farthest South any of us have gone in decades." Anyone who had returned anyway. The old carvings spoke of it, the long journey away from their once home. The very path they were retracing.

The Ancient city of their people lay still further south, but they had sprawled deep into Sheketh once upon a time. Tomorrow, they would begin to see the signs of that expansion. Watch towers, outposts, forgotten villages and abodes belonging to those who lived further out.

At least, if the stories were to be believed. "I fear what we may find."

He said as he came to a stop before her. Smiling softly as he continued.

"I fear what we may not find." The Prince admitted, his conviction never wavering, but his worries clear.

 

[Trista]

With a quiet nod, Trista dipped her chin obediently, absorbing Talmanes' words as she always did.

Glancing briefly toward Tigris, Trista felt something twist deep within her chest. It was fleeting, that twinge of something unspoken, but undeniable. She quickly brushed it aside, focusing on her task as she moved to help the others set up for the night, the stir of emotions settling beneath her well-practiced mask of obedience and duty.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris remained still, her gaze trained on the distant horizon as Talmanes’ voice reached her, low and soft with the weight of his fears. She listened in silence, her body tense as the rain dripped from the edges of the cavern, painting streaks of wetness across the stone. It was certainly the farthest south she and those who had followed her had ever ventured… the idea of uncharted land, forgotten histories, and the ghosts of her people stirred something within her too—though it was not fear.

She turned her head slowly, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, her expression softened. "Worry doesn’t change what we will find," she said, her voice steady, almost challenging. "We are Tyrians. Whatever lies ahead, it’s ours to claim or to destroy."

There was no arrogance in her words, just a quiet certainty born from years of surviving the wilds, of knowing the brutal truth of their world. The unknown didn’t scare her, but the weight of their history—what they could not afford to fail at—was what lingered in her mind.

She stepped closer to him, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she looked out into the darkening rain. "I fear what the land remembers about us," she admitted in a rare moment of vulnerability. "And what it expects us to be when we return."

Her hand found his wrist briefly, a silent reassurance before she released him, her eyes sharp again, ready. "Whatever happens tomorrow, Tal… we’ll face it together."

Feeling eyes on her, she subtly turned her head, just enough to notice Trista glancing at them. The moment was brief, but it lingered longer in Tigris’ mind than she expected. The twist of emotion on Trista’s face—fleeting as it was—did not escape her notice.

For a heartbeat, Tigris’ eyes narrowed slightly, her instincts prickling at the sensation of something unspoken hanging in the air. It wasn’t jealousy, but a deep-rooted awareness that there was more to Trista’s gaze than the obedience she wore so well. Tigris had lived her life reading the silent signals in people’s movements, and Trista’s glance was like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

Her hand rested gently on Talmanes’ wrist for just a moment longer, her mind suddenly split between the conversation they had been having and the unspoken feelings that seemed to ripple through their group. She said nothing, letting the moment pass, but her eyes followed Trista for a few seconds more, thoughtful.

Tigris would not question it now. But she would remember.

 

[Tal]

Tal's eyes flickered over Tigris, and a slow breath filled his lungs.

He knew that eventually there would be questions, and he would either have to answer, or face whatever wrath was to come. The Prince couldn't help but smile ever so slightly. Perhaps he truly was a monster, though he did not think so.

In his very soul, he knew that he was playing either neither of them.

Fingers tightened for just a moment, and then he nodded. "Tomorrow."

Talmanes said as his fingers drew through the fire of Tigris' hair. A fist seizing her, and slowly drawing her attention back towards himself. He knew that he did not have the answer that either of them sought, but at least he could keep them moving forward.

Had to.

"Whatever we find. I am glad to be here." He said. "I was gone for too long."

Talmanes admitted. "A part of me almost stayed."

A crime that was hard to admit to, especially to her.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris felt the tug of his hand in her hair, a slow, deliberate act that pulled her focus from the former slave and completely to him. The flames from the fire danced in her amber eyes as she stared back at Talmanes, her expression unreadable, though the tension in her jaw betrayed the complexity of her thoughts.

His words settled heavily between them, and she didn't pull away, though a muscle in her neck twitched at his admission. A part of him almost stayed. Tigris knew too well the weight of decisions like that—the allure of abandoning duty for something else, something more personal. Her loyalty to her people had always anchored her, but Talmanes? He had always been more complicated than she was.

"Almost stayed?" she repeated quietly, her voice low but firm, holding the edge of challenge. There was no anger in her tone, just the sharpness of someone who knew the cost of straying from the path. "You cannot afford to almost anything, Tal."

Her hand came up to rest against his chest, not in tenderness, but to ground him—to remind him of where he stood, and with whom. She knew what was at stake, and though the closeness between them was undeniable, Tigris would never let sentiment derail their mission. Not even for him.

"You were gone long enough," she said, her voice softening just slightly, though it still carried the weight of unspoken things. "But you're where you are supposed to be now, and that's what matters."

 

[Trista]

Trista's fingers worked deftly, cleaning the wound of one of the Tyrian pilgrims with a calm efficiency that belied the turmoil within her. She could only make out the soft murmur of conversation between Talmanes and Tigris, just beyond her, but the interaction was one that refused to be ignored no matter how much she tried to focus on her task.

Her eyes flickered up, catching a glimpse of Talmanes’ hand in Tigris’ hair, the subtle intimacy of the gesture twisting something deep in her chest. Jealousy surged up unbidden, mixing with a deep sadness she didn’t want to acknowledge.

He always finds his way back to her.

The thought echoed bitterly in her mind as she stole another glance. She knew there was no space for these feelings, not here, not now. They were all walking toward a future shrouded in uncertainty and danger, and there was no time for personal entanglements.

Trista dipped her chin, her long braid slipping over her shoulder as she worked to distract herself, pulling tight the fabric she’d used to patch the wound. Her hands stilled for a moment, and she bit the inside of her cheek, the taste of copper grounding her as the tension between Tal and Tigris continued to draw her attention. She shook her head slightly, scolding herself inwardly for caring too much about things that weren’t hers to control.

But even as she scolded herself, that ache remained.

With a sigh, Trista finished tending the man's wound and rose to her feet, wiping her hands on the worn cloth at her waist. She cast another glance toward the pair, the flicker of firelight casting shadows across their faces. The bond between them was so clear—unspoken, but visible in every gesture, every word.

A pang of loneliness hit her hard, but she pushed it down. She was here to serve, to help, and to ensure that the mission moved forward. Whatever she felt about Talmanes, whatever she longed for—it wasn’t her place to question. Not now. Not ever.

Trista turned back to her duties, though her heart weighed heavily as the night pressed on.

 

[Tal]

"You cannot afford to almost anything, Tal."​

Those words sat with him longer than any others, for he knew the truth of them to his core. There had never been any room for indecision in his life. Each choice had been made in full, never in doubt, even if the outcome turned out to be wrong.

Doubt would not find him now.

Taking a breath, Talmanes' fingers slowly unfurled. He drew them slowly over Tigris' skin. Pulling her close as her palm rested against his chest. Above them, the clouds were gathering. A soft pallor pulling together."Looks like rain."

The Prince said softly, a smile drawing on his lips as he looked down at her. His words an echo of his refound confidence in their task. At the end of this journey, they would find what they sought. They would bring the Blood Rains to Sheketh, and they would bring their people back to Glory.

For a time they stood there, small droplets of rain beginning to fall from the sky by the time they joined the rest of the encampment.

Nightfall came swiftly after, and the darkness gathered quickly within the small alcove. With the rain now falling in full force, neither moon nor star offered any solace within the darkness. Only the embers of the caravans three bonfires remained, and as Trista lay besides one she would hear the crunch of boots behind her.

Tal stepped up silently behind the former slave, crouching besides her and beneath the canvas of her tent. Fingers brushing softly against the nape of her exposed shoulder before slowly dragging her blankets higher.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris felt the weight of Talmanes' fingers trailing over her skin, and though her eyes remained on the horizon where the storm clouds gathered, she was acutely aware of him—of his presence, his touch, his words. His soft smile in the face of the coming rain brought an answering flicker of warmth to her chest, though she couldn't help the cautious thoughts swirling behind her calm exterior. She allowed herself to lean into him, her palm resting against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, grounding them both in the present.

Her words had been spoken from a place of both love and warning. Tigris knew what lay ahead—knew the weight of what they were about to attempt. There could be no hesitation, no room for second-guessing. The Blood Rains were coming, and if Tal faltered, everything would collapse around them. She would not let him forget that. She would not let him fail.

When the first droplets of rain began to fall, she looked up at the sky, her features unreadable as she took a deep breath, nodding in silent agreement to his comment. "Looks like rain," she echoed quietly, her gaze fixed on the storm clouds that was much like the path they were on. Dark, dangerous, and filled with unknowns.

As the night closed in and Talmanes eventually stepped away, leaving her by the mouth of the cavern, Tigris remained standing, watching the storm build. The cool rain soaked through her hair and clothing, but she welcomed the chill. She was not one to seek warmth when there was a battle to be fought or a goal to be reached. Her focus remained unwavering. She would follow Talmanes to the ends of the earth, but she would make sure he stayed on the right path.

 

[Trista]

Trista lay by the fire, her body curled beneath a thin blanket as the patter of rain and crackle of firewood echoed throughout the cave. Her breath remained steady, her eyes closed, but her mind was anything but still.

She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t.

But jealousy twisted in her chest like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. The sight of them together earlier had stoked feelings she had long since tried to bury. It wasn’t her place to feel this way, and she knew that. Talmanes had made his choices. And she? Who was she, really? A distraction. A little warmth for a little while. She was someone who still owed him her life, and he owed her nothing.

Then she heard the soft crunch of boots behind her, slow and deliberate, approaching her tent. Her pulse quickened, and instinct told her to open her eyes, to acknowledge whoever was standing over her. But something held her still.

The gentle brush of fingers against her neck sent a shiver down her spine, and though she knew it was Talmanes, she didn’t stir. His touch was careful, almost tender, as he pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders, shielding her from the cold. The warmth of his presence seeped into her, but Trista forced herself to stay silent, feigning sleep, even as her heart hammered in her chest.

What was there to say, anyway?

Her mind warred with itself. The part of her that wanted to turn, to face him, and the part that knew better. He belonged to Tigris, not her. Whatever brief kindness he offered was fleeting, and it would pass with the night.

So she stayed still, her breathing soft and measured, hoping that the storm outside would drown out the turmoil inside. She wouldn’t let him see the jealousy, the longing. She couldn’t. Not when their path held dangers far greater than her own feelings.

 

[Tal]

Talmanes did not shake Trista awake, but nor did he move.

As the flames crackled and sparked nearby, as the cold night air began to settle in, one of the Prince's of Tyr sat with the former slave. In silence for a time, before a low hum began to fill the air. The thrumming tune shaking Talmanes' chest as he reached out and gently stroked his fingers through her hair.

The tune was an old one, though familiar to the faithful of their people. An echo and lament of the past at the beginning, but a glorious look to the future at the end.

As he hummed the gentle tune, his touch continued. Drawing through the long locks of her red hair and across her skin. Idly tracing as he continued his song long into the night. Never seeming to sleep, never seeming to stir from his place.

 

[Trista]

Trista lay unmoving beneath the thin blanket, each breath measured to maintain the illusion of sleep as Talmanes' touch ghosted through her hair. The gentle caress was unexpected, and the song he hummed resonated through her bones, speaking to a part of her that had long been silenced by chains and the sharp bite of commands. The melody was haunting, steeped in memories and hopes she scarcely allowed herself to recall. The soft thrumming of it mixed with the crackling fire, wrapping her in an embrace of warmth and familiarity she hadn't known in years.

Her heart ached at the kindness, at the way he sat beside her, the Prince of Tyr with the weight of their people's future resting on his shoulders, choosing this moment of quiet. Yet it was a kindness that felt sharp-edged. The song's lament touched on pain she had buried, and the promise of hope at its conclusion felt distant, almost unreachable.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she kept them sealed tight. She couldn’t show weakness, not now, not when the reality of tomorrow loomed with its dangers and truths she wasn't ready to face. The comfort of his presence was as agonising as it was tender.

As the song continued, she let herself fall into the rhythm of it, feeling each note and each stroke of his fingers like a lullaby sung to a heart still trying to mend. She calmed. And the past and future mingled in the darkness, and for a moment, Trista let herself pretend. Pretend that she was someone who belonged here, cradled by warmth, shielded by the care of another, and she allowed herself to sleep.

 

[Tal]

Just before dawn, when it was time to wake, Trista would find that Talmanes was gone. Yet it was obvious he had not left long ago. A sense of warmth still lingered besides her, and the whisper of a kiss still lingered upon her brow.

The Prince was eager for the day.

By the time first light touched any of the caravan, Talames was already ready to go. They had but one hill to climb, and he intended to be the first upon it. It took them only a little while to pull themselves from their slumber, to begin stirring and finally attend the march once more.

When the sun began to crest began to crest the sky, so did they the hill. As they moved Talmanes walked alone, determined, caught within the morning sun as the wind harrowed slowly through the narrow canyon trails. A turn greeted them, and when taken, revealed finally what the Prince had hoped to see for so long.

Behind him, they would see him fall to his knees.

In the distance, still a hundred miles or more away, they could see it now. Distant specks of black towers. Standing tall enough to be seen among the mountains, the flows of lava around them a mark of what the pilgrims were looking at.

Between them lay mountains, rivers of red, and walls of blackened stone made by their own ancestors. They would meet watch towers, monsters, and perhaps even the elder villages.

But in that moment none of it mattered, for at the end of the great Valley of Kin, Talmanes saw it.

The city of their ancestors.