The Seekers: Soul Ties

She knew that she had to calm down. But how? A pulsing sensation at the back of her neck wasn’t going away; she ignored it. Star was right – there was no way to know. A deep breath. And another one. What were her options? Were there any options? Any but the obvious?

«Send a letter to our allies, Star,» Sabiri said. «If it wasn’t Drowners – fine, we’ll find out when we search their village. But if it was them – we could be in trouble. They could’ve seen something here. They could’ve gotten here precisely because they knew. Our allies could suffer the same fate. We shouldn’t give Drowners any more time to get ready for us. I say we march today. We’re almost ready anyway.»

Neither Haileen nor Star looked surprised to hear this. Yet Star did object. «Being almost ready means higher casualties.»

«Giving them time to entrench or to buy mercenaries also means the same thing,» Haileen agreed with Sabiri.

Star looked Sabiri in the eyes. «Are you sure this is the best way?»

«I’m sure I want to spend time with Iskrila. I’m sure I want to lie down and do nothing.»

A weak smile appeared on Star’s face. «You’ll get your opportunity soon enough, just after we win. I’ll send the word. Be ready.»

Determination

Left alone, Sabiri quickly armed and armored herself. There was no guarantee that the attack would indeed happen today, but the chance was high enough. She knew that she had to go out to do… something. Anything to help them prepare. Everything she could.

Yet, she failed to make herself leave Iskrila. Failed not to sit near her corpse. Failed to stop clutching her cold hand, trying to warm it up. Failed to stop staring at her beautiful face. But there was something else on her mind. A thought she couldn’t quite materialize. It was very important somehow, but what was it exactly?

Berani! This thought pinched her very soul. What the fuck she was doing right now? How the damn could she sit idle in a moment like this?

Hoping that she remembered where she lived correctly, Sabiri rushed towards the pier. The whole village had woken; streets became busy and hard to navigate. The air became full of voices and commotion.

Letting a group of soldiers pass, marching towards gathering points, Sabiri immediately noticed fresh recruits. They were necessary for a task this large, but the way they stood out! They weren’t used to marching, they didn’t seem comfortable with their gear, and they looked quite distressed. It wasn’t supposed to be today! They never wanted to be soldiers! Sabiri didn’t know whether she guessed their feelings right, but there was nothing she could do to help them.

A couple of healers passed by, carrying a stack of stretchers. How many of those would they have to use? Many of those healers were also fresh out of training. Could they do their job under such pressure?

The storages were open, and the wagons were being loaded with flaming arrows and other supplies. Sabiri very much hoped it wouldn’t have to become a siege, but they’d made plans for this just in case.

The closer she got to the pier, the fewer people she saw on the streets. Officers and guards were keeping the commotion away from the Lake, where enemies could spot them. People were allowed to pass here only in small groups, or individually. Sabiri wanted to feel a bit of pride and satisfaction: those were their plans – weeks in the making and now in motion. But were they ultimately futile? A waste of time and effort?

Having reached the pier, Sabiri went to its left corner where the water met the wall. There it was – a bloody stain on the wood. Sabiri raised her eyes and immediately recognized Berani’s house. At least she thought it was. To be killed just a few meters away from your doorstep seemed so… wrong!

Sabiri knocked on the door. After a few seconds, it opened a sliver. A face, swollen by tears, looked at her through the gap. Whatever tired and sad expression was on that face before immediately turned into surprise, for she recognized who was standing before her. The host hurried to open the door and let Sabiri inside.

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