It was only a few tens of minutes before midnight. Zakar was hurrying speedily as he led them away from the aftermath of the ambush. Chida walked at the tail of the train, protecting their backs.
Caster was out cold, at least many hours away from opening his eyes. Many more hours counting to days for him to regain full fitness.
"How long?" Cara ate her fingernails as she asked politely. "To what?" Zakar waved both his hands in slight anger. "I'm sorry." Cara's lips pressed hard. "I'm worried for him."
Chida tried to grasp the speeding Zakar but her fingers fell short. Zakar turned to face them. "We only met them, Chida. Don't choose her side." Zakar said as he pointed at Cara. "Brother." Chida called out but Zakar continued to walk briskly.
Chida doubled and halted in front of him, swinging her uncovered arms to block his path. "Then tell me, why do you carry him on your back?" Zakar growled. "Alright, never mind." Zakar jumped and landed firmly behind Chida. "Huh? Never mind?"
Zakar was mostly angry about the whole thing. What happened a few hours ago was beyond what he had expected. No, he had not expected the tenth of a tenth of what happened.
More than a thousand Cursed Beasts of different kinds attacking humans different from the kind of those he knew. Blood flowing from both Cursed Beast and humans. And at its climax, a roar of flame destroyed every last one of the beasts, including him and his sister.
Zakar wasn't happy that he was a fingernail away from being burnt to smothering nothingness. To make it worse, he was carrying the culprit on his back.
They carried on as Zakar led the way. Zakar sniffed the air and then covered his nose. Chida and Cara followed but Zakar followed his sniff with a smile. "The air is rife with the smell of dead and burnt Cursed Beast." "And?" Chida interrupted. "They'll be wary of us. We should be safe till we reach home."
Not minding the stench, or rather, enduring it, they navigated through the night until they reached where Chida and Zakar called home.
If an oasis looked out of place in a desert, what they called home was not far from it. The house was a wooden construct, painted in white. Its roof was curved but plain, and it balanced itself at the top of the house as though it was created for it, not built.
At its right-hand side was a garden, a mother to many plants and fruits. And at its back roared a lake, small in size but a thousand times more than enough for the needs of Zakar and his sister.
Zakar never cared for the beauty of this "home." To him, it was but a remembrance of what could have been and what was and what will never be. "What a beautiful place," observing with a daze, Cara commented.
Chida turned to face her but took one step backwards. At the same time, Zakar unsheathed a knife and pointed it at her. "H-how did you see..... how can you see it?" he asked angrily.
Cara adopted a running stance but Zakar quickly moved to hold her down by the shoulder. Meanwhile, Caster who was unconscious was roused due to his fall from Zakar's back. Chida waved her arm dramatically; it would have been funny if it was done on another occasion.
Caster opened his left eye but closed it immediately. However, his mouth would not remain shut. "Please," he said in a pleading whisper-like tone. "Explain!" Zakar shouted to Cara who had now calmed herself.
Cara was reluctant but clearly, her life was more important than this. "It is my ability. I can see through any unnatural thing." Cara said, then she knelt. "I am sorry, please. My life is in your hands. But if you are not so considerate as to forgive, dispose of me. But tend to Caster."
Chida and Zakar both studied Cara. "A unique ability?" "Witchcraft." Chida and Zakar echoed at the same time. Caster had finally returned to unconsciousness but his face was one of concern.
Chida and Zakar went about twenty paces away from Cara—a long enough distance that would have prevented Cara from eavesdropping. "I know I was the one who wanted to help them the most, but this is too risky." Chida said, painfully.
Zakar glanced at Cara who was now crying beside Caster's unconscious body. "No, we will help them," Zakar argued. "So it only takes a teary-eyed lady to..." "Shut up. I have my reasons. By law, my word is final," Zakar said as he folded his arms.
Chida chuckled. "Forever the hypocrite. You only invoke the law when it suits you," Chida said then walked away. Zakar followed suit and carried Caster inside the barrier of sorts.
After they entered through the door, Zakar calmly dropped Caster on one of the four long cushioned brown chairs that sat in the parlour area—surrounding a large stool placed in the middle.
Like the outside, the interior was painted white, though it could only be dimly seen through the interior light of the moon and candle. "Chida would show you to your room. I'll tend to your husband," Zakar bit out.
Chida directed Cara into the passageway that led into rooms. Zakar's eyes followed them until they were gone then he cushioned Caster's head with a pillow. He grabbed another pillow and used it to cover Caster's face. His face wore a psychotic smile as he pressed his hand against the pillow.
Unconscious, Caster struggled but was saved by steps coming down the stairs. Zakar removed the pillow in time before Chida could see what he almost did. "She'll draw a bath then go to sleep," Chida muttered.
"A set of humans stranger than both of us, Chida. They're pale, or almost pale. And we're neither them nor the people who inhabit this land. So who are we?" Zakar questioned. "Get some rest, Roof Sire. We will question them tomorrow."
"Roof Sire? Do not call me tha..."
"Hypocrite," Chida said as she walked up the stairs.
In the morning, the cock sang its horrid waking song but it was not loud enough to rouse Zakar and Chida, and Caster and Cara. Hours later, when the sun was at the height of its heat, Caster woke up.
Sleeping back-down on the brown couch, Caster touched his forehead after he woke. He was marred with a headache, one which belonged to someone who drank a hundred bottles of ale.
He studied the parlour despite being barely able to move his neck. He forced himself into a sitting position. He noticed he was shirtless and perhaps stripped down to only breeches.
"Where's Cara!" He roared as he forced himself from the couch. His intensity led him to fall on the wooden ground; luckily for him, it wasn't concrete or granite. "Cara! Cara! Cara!" He shouted with all his strength, veins clearly visible on his neck.
A door opened in the near distance, though still away from his brown gaze. Appearing at the edge of the wall leading to the passageway of the rooms was Zakar. "Who are you?" Caster questioned.
Zakar trudged to meet Caster on the floor. He turned to study his rear. "Your wife is sleeping. She walked a long distance while you slept on my back. It'll be wise to let her sleep. And if you were an irresponsible husband, leave my sister out of your noise."
"Thank you," Caster drawled. "For what?" Zakar asked. "For saving our lives." Zakar studied Caster before replying. "You killed hundreds of them. You're strong. I've never seen someone stronger in using the Fourth Quadrant."
"Fourth Quadrant?" Zakar studied him more. "We both do have a lot to learn from each other. Your wife also made mention of a sight that allowed her to see unnatural things. Care to explain?"
It was Caster's turn to study Zakar. He was most peculiar, unlike any Caster had seen. Not even up to a year ago, Emon returned back from the Firehawk's Nest with a woman, black of skin. Her hair was black but its texture was different.
Zakar's eyes were light blue and his hair was black and short, but wavy. He was equal to Caster in height, maybe a year older but he looked physically stronger and more imposing.
"What that lady..... she's not my wife by the way," Caster started. "In Vermachor, the continent I'm from, it's called a divine trait." Zakar looked as if he did not understand.
"What's a continent?" The blue-eyed young man asked. "A large land, containing many countries or even many empires. In Vermachor, we consider Negrichor a continent." Zakar seemed to be more confused. "What's Negrichor?"
Caster was stunned but recovered quickly. "Negrichor is where we are now." "Oh, I see." "Then what's a divine trait?" Zakar questioned. Both of them now sat cross-legged on the wooden paving. "A divine trait is a blessing from our god, Alabath. Not everyone has them. My brother's has to do with barriers, mine is flame and the lady..... you understand."
Caster started making tiresome breaths. "Here, in Negrichor? That's what you called it right?" Zakar asked. "Yes." Zakar nodded. "We call them the Great Square. They're not a blessing from some god, but they represent the pinnacle of our relationship with nature," Zakar paused to glance outside the window.
"Fire is the Fourth Quadrant; it was the fourth element believed to have been created. Water, Air and Earth are the remaining three. But the strength of control varies from individual."
Caster seemed to put himself in great focus as he studied the air. "So that's how it is. Your air is filled with atmospheric lifeforce; we have it in my home but not nearly as strong. In fact, it's almost non-existent."
Zakar roared a loud laugh. "You're intelligent. It was good I didn't kill you last night." Caster looked dazed and clearly tired. "I've burdened you it seems. Go back to sleep, rest well. We have much to exchange."
Zakar carried Caster to one of the empty rooms in the house and placed him on a large bed. As quickly as he dropped him, Zakar left.
Through a door leading to the back of the house Zakar went to sit beside the lake. It glistened with the sun's shine and fishes dove out of the water to enjoy its warm embrace. "He's more dangerous than I imagined," Zakar muttered as his reflection, his only audience, listened to him.