Grave sat in his tent, refusing to believe the news just brought to him. Three times a week spies reported back to cleanse themselves of the corruption of Fetona and report anything they found. It usually wasn’t anything important, just a death here or a rumor there – the usual news – but this time Grave had heard something unbelievable.
“Please…. Tell me this could be a mistake,” Grave told the young spy who had just returned. His face twisted in a sad anger. Kojack, it seems, was loved by more than even Grave knew.
“There is no mistake, sir,” the Nomad said slowly, “I was in the arena when it happened. Usually I avoid these things, but when I heard it was an old man and a young boy… Well, you know…”
Grave nodded. He knew full well. “What of Sish? You said you saw Kojack’s…. end,” he dared not say it. If Grave did, he would succumb to the grief. As a leader, he could not do that.
The Nomad bowed raised his head, a fraction of a smile forming. “I didn’t see much, but you were right, sir. He picked up one of those damnable guards and used him to beat the others. He had two officers inhis grasp and was fighting a Captain when I left with the remainder of the crowds.”
“Wait… did you say two?! How is that even possible!?” Grave was taken away from the grief he felt and consumed by confusion. He knew Sish was strong and probably a Divine, but…
“Sir,” the Nomad said slowly, “It isn’t hard to grab armor with Will and throw them around. Hard for a Lesser, but surely not for a Greater of high caliber…”
Grave turned on the man, causing him to come to silence. “All officers where hollow armor at all times,” Grave said, bringing surprise to the Nomad spy’s face, “That means he is even more powerful than me; a Divine.”
“B-but sir, how could that boy… Is he a Divine?”
Grave shook his head. He didn’t know, honestly. “Report to the other leaders among the Nomads. We will move soon. It is time we started our true rebellion.” The Nomad nodded and headed out, leaving Grave alone to think. Kojack…. The man was really gone, then. It would be a loss, but there were plenty of times when the man should have died and didn’t. Grave wished he had went peacefully. “I’m sorry, old friend,” Grave said to the air in the tent, “But all I can do is make a better world for you to be reborn into.”
“Talking about the deceased?”
Grave nearly jumped at the tall figure of Sara standing in the entrance of the tent. She had a knack for sneaking up like that, it seemed. Damnable woman, making Grave jump. “To what do I owe the honor, Sara?”
She shook her head, blonde hair shaking with it. “Nothing. I simply came to see how you are.”
“So… you heard the news?”
She nodded sadly. “I overheard from your conversation with Hank.”
“So that’s his name,” Grave said, standing and walking over to the only table in the room. He was quite hungry, so maybe the biscuits there were still warm. “I always know his face, but names seem to elude me.”
Sara shook her head again in the corner of Grave’s vision. “That is not what I came to talk about.”
“Come to tell me your origins finally,” Grave mused.
“I came to warn you, Grave,” Sara replied, completely ignoring Grave’s inquery. That wasn’t a surprise. Women were always like that. Sara, Farmers, and even Fetona Women. All the same.
“Warn me about what, Sara?” Grave did not take words from Sara lightly, as she usually held truth. Her instincts had saved them from a few incidents with the local wildlife.
“Your move toward the city,” she said sadly, “It will bring more harm than you can imagine.” Grave watched as a mix of unreadable emotions passed over her face. Who was this woman and how did she know these things? Maybe she could read the future? No, that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
“What will happen if I make this move to attack?” Grave asked cautiously.
Sara said nothing, nor even acted like she had heard. Grave started to walk her way to make sure she was alright, but slowly she turned her head and met her eyes. To his surprise, there was a profound sadness.
“I am tired of the fighting, Grave,” she said, her voice shaking, “It makes me so tired everytime someone dies…” She was sobbing now; something Grave had never seen her do in her two years of knowing him. He remembered her controlled, yet easily flattered , personality when she had nursed him back to health all that time ago. Never had she changed, yet now she sank to the dirty floor, sobbing like a babe.
Grave cautiously walked over and put his hands around her nervously. Aside from his late wife, he had never really touched a woman in any way. Even Aisla had never found him the comforting sort, and they had been married for several years. Sara, however, seemed to find comfort in his awkward embrace.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “I don’t really know when the last time I truly felt comfortable was… I still miss the days when I was needed.” Grave didn’t understand that last bit, but he didn’t ask. Now was not the right time.
But, the time to move WAS now. Of that, Grave was certain.