Flash fiction: A Visit (How's The Heart)

I know it's been a while since I posted anything here. The short story which was going to be the next one posted here is now going to be in an anthology in January so I've been focused on that. This short story is the next based on Nightwish songs from their new album: Human Nature. It is loosely based on the song 'How's the Heart' which you can listen to here.

A Visit

Year 6498 AC
Heartfair, Kingdom of Aiova
Eastern Graveyard

Ryfon laid the bouquet of red carnations down at the base of a looming willow tree. The bark was a deep black, just like the other trees planted in neat rows across the graveyard. It was Aiovan tradition, burying a loved one along with a black willow sapling. These trees grew so fast that there was a towering memorial for the loved one in only a few years.

A small plaque at the base of the tree held the name of the deceased and a few loving words.

It was funny, Ryfon thought, how he only knew Yuna’s name in death, now that she had her own tree. She also had her own plaque that read, “Yuna Naltris, now one with the endless music”.

“I brought you flowers,” he mumbled, “I know it’s not quite what you wanted. I promise I’ll bring your grandson here one of these days.”

Ryfon knew exactly where mortal souls went after death. He knew deep in the god’s realm there was a great gate that took them off to “paradise”, as many called it. He knew that Yuna’s spirit was far away in that realm, and yet, a breeze stirred his clothes as if acknowledging his promise.

He sighed and turned away, feeling drained. He’d been up for days, watching over Yuna’s grandson and making sure he didn’t get himself killed. He could feel his magic waning.

As a relictus, he was a servant to the Goddess of Revenge, Fyni. Bound to her, bound to serve until he died. A death that loomed closer the more violent the war between the gods, with their servants as pawns, got.

Ryfon stood still and started the process to Realm-Step back to his home in Fyni’s village.

He felt his mind slip and his magic falter. A slice of pain shot through him; he’d overdone it.

A grimace accompanied the decision to find a place to rest for the night. He wasn’t sure he was up for seeing Immeral’s smug face. But the man’s house was close, and he never turned Ryfon away. He could Realm-Step in the morning.

It wasn’t a very long journey from the graveyard to Immeral’s home on the outskirts of Aiova’s capital, Heartfair.

Like many other dwellings in Aiova, his home was built half into the sandstone to help keep some of the sweltering desert heat out.

He knocked on the smooth, stone door at the bottom of sandstone steps. Five quick raps that were probably harder than necessary. Ryfon shook his hand out a little and cursed under his breath.

A moment later the door swung open to reveal a very annoyed-looking relictus. Like all relicti, Immeral had blinding white skin, cracked by deep black veins across his entire body and glowing red eyes. Since he had taken to hiding amongst mortals, he took extra care to grind his red horns down and hide the stubs underneath thick, wavy brown hair. A large raven of swirls and spiderwebs marked his throat. A God-Mark that tied him to Fyni, forever connected even though he’d defected years ago. Ryfon had a similar one on his chest.

Immeral seemed surprised for a moment to see Ryfon and he couldn’t help but feel agitated.

“Are you going to let me in?” Ryfon asked.

Immeral raised an eyebrow and swung the door wide, stepping back and making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “By all means.”

Ryfon stepped into the small home, hunching his shoulders so his head didn’t brush the top of the low roof.

“You couldn’t have warned me you’d be coming by?” Immeral’s voice was wry, a note of frustration seeping in.

Ryfon shrugged and dropped onto a cushion on the floor around a low table.

Immeral followed, sitting on another cushion across from him.

Ryfon stared at his old friend, so at ease living among the mortals. So at ease to throw away everything just for some freedom. The irony wasn’t lost on Ryfon although he didn’t want to dwell on it.

Immeral was the one who broke the silence, “Did you come here for something?”

“I needed to rest a bit before Realm-Stepping back home.”

“And where is home for you nowadays?” His tone was slightly teasing, but it had a hard edge.

“In Fyni’s village, of course.”

A short laugh, “Right, that’s why Siminar tells me every time he tries to invite you to cards, you’re never home.”

Ryfon glanced away, focusing his eyes on a woven tapestry covering the sandstone wall. “I’ve been busy.”

“Of course, busy. So you just drop by whenever it suits you, then?” There was the bitterness Ryfon had been expecting.

Ryfon felt himself bristle and got ready to respond when Immeral continued, “That means you haven’t heard the news.”

Ryfon turned back to his friend and couldn’t help the curiosity leaking into his voice. “What news?” Few things could distract Immeral from needling Ryfon for his life choices; the news had to be a big deal.

“Malik defected.”

Ryfon stilled, his blood chilling. “What?” For a moment he felt light-headed. Malik wasn’t a fighter. He’d been a cobbler before the war started. But fighter or not, he was bound by his goddess like all the rest of them to fight at her call.

Immeral grinned, “Left Xenia and went to live with an elf.”

Ryfon couldn’t believe it. “Who told you this?”

“Siminar.”

He scoffed, “He’s hardly reliable, especially once he starts drinking.”

Immeral nodded slowly, “Yes, but then Tomir confirmed it. And he was sober.”

Tomir. Malik’s older brother and one of Xenia’s most ruthless warriors. He was a man Ryfon felt comfortable calling a friend, although his motivations were often a little more unknown than what made Ryfon comfortable.

Immeral dropped his voice and leaned in slightly, “And, rumor has it that Malik’s escape was aided by the Headtaker.”

Ryfon sucked in a breath. “You cannot expect me to believe that. You and Siminar gossip too much to be trustworthy.”

Immeral leaned back and shrugged, “I don’t really care if you believe me. I just thought you might like to know that there are other options than indentured servitude until you die.” He paused for a moment as if deciding precisely what he wanted to say. “A choice that people other than me have made.”

Ryfon straightened up, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He couldn’t think about it. No good came from dwelling on things he was not meant for.

Immeral waved a lazy hand in the air and stood. “Of course I don’t. Not like I saw a better life and instead of pining, I took it.”

Ryfon stood as well, “I am fine with how things are.” Lies.

A non-committal noise escaped Immeral before he turned away and headed to a door in the back of the room. “You know where the guest bed is.”