CHAPTER 2
THE IMPORTANT THINGS
Smoke mixed with earthly sande assaulted Tyras’s
nostrils as he gathered himself up from the desert floor. He took a moment to
dust off some of the grains from his blue coat before scaling the massive dune
that loomed over him. Burning fatigue throbbed through his legs as he scampered
along the rough, shifting hill’s slope. It wouldn’t be long before the
Koterrans began searching for him, so time was of the essence.
Squall had better be ready to leave; those
knights seemed to have an unnatural tenacity, especially their leader, Tyras thought
as he climbed. After what seemed like forever, the Seeker reached the top of
the dune. There he saw the grizzled bomb maker standing in a proud pose, one
foot resting on the base of his giant cannon. The flickering of his pipe embers
illuminated his age-stained face in the darkness. The older man’s expression
exuded more warmth than the pipe ever could, with a proud smile that lifted
wrinkles in the epicanthic folds of his wise, distinguishably Savarian eyes.
“I think you might have overdone it,
Squall,” Tyras said as he wiped more of the caked sand and mud off his
cloak.
Squall’s leathery forehead wrinkled
with confusion as he stared at the Seeker. “Whatever do you mean, Tyras?
I thought the explosion was exquisite! The shock wave knocked
everyone down like a swift brushstroke from a masterful painter.
You cannot deny that I’m a great artist of explosions, my boy.”
Tyras nodded, both in agreement and
respect, half-smiling. I know nobody else can match your talent or
your loyalty, my friend. He couldn’t count how many times Squall had
remedied a situation by exploding all the right things at all the right
times. “Well, master artist, how do you explain the second
explosion that acquainted me with the desert floor?” The Seeker
mustered all the sarcasm he could into the question.
“Oh, that one is easy,” Squall
answered, trying to contain his laughter. “You see, you had made it out
of there too clean, not a speck of dust on you. We couldn’t have that
now, could we? Think of when you arrive home in Arga. Wouldn’t it be
better if you appear battered and bruised? You’re a great adventurer
and servant of your empire; you must always look the part. It’s to
make it seem as though your mission was grand and dangerous. Your peers
will praise you to no end, women will swoon, and men will stare with
admiration and envy. They’ll wonder how you managed to come back alive!”
The older man raised his raspy voice before continuing. “And you would
say: ‘Twas with the aid of a handsome Savarian god of explosives!” The
older man waved his fist in the air as he shouted. “Well? Are you
convinced? I, for one, think it would make for a far better story.”
Squall couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. He bent over his cannon,
chuckling until spit ran down his unshaven cheeks.
Tyras’s eyes twitched with
impatience. “I would rather return home comfortable and clean, forget the
stories. You make it seem like all I care about is what people think of
me. Enough with the chit chat; we need to leave! Come on, I’ll help you
load Shizuka.”
Squall obliged, and the pair grappled
with the cannon, turning it around to face the other side of the dune.
With a few powerful thrusts, they drove it up a ramp attached to the
back side of Squall’s wagon. The weighty, boxed vehicle gleamed, an
impressive work of Savarian craftsmanship. Ornate etched designs adorned
the dark oak of the frame. Fastened to the vehicle’s yoke stood four
hulking, muscular horses with ebony manes: Savarian stallions, some of
the fastest horses in all of Tiarna. Tyras trusted few, but he counted on
those horses. How many times have they spirited us out of harm’s way? the
Seeker thought, glancing up at them.
After the pair retracted the ramp,
they hurried to the vehicle’s front. Nimble Tyras leapt into the
passenger seat with graceful ease as the old, weary Squall hobbled his
way up into the driver’s seat. With the both of them situated, Squall
shouted a command in Savarian and the horses dashed forward,
propelling the wagon into the windy desert night.
Not long after the ride started, the
banter resumed, with even more vigor than before. Tyras was first. “You
just wanted to scare the hell out of me with that blast, didn’t you?
There was no ulterior motive to your foolery. It wasn’t an attempt
to embellish our story; I think it was much simpler than that. You
wanted to have some fun and watch the shock wave send me flying like a
lame goose. Did you get a good laugh?”
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| Serana |
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| Oren |
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| Tyras |
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| Yata |
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