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said when seeing the food splayed out on the table.
    “We eat well here in my tower,” Tarlak said with a huge grin on his face. “Impressed?”
    Harruq did not have a chance to answer. His mouth was already full.

    A urelia joined the half-orcs as they were preparing to bunk for the night.
    “You two busy?” she asked, poking her head through their door.
    “Come on in,” Harruq said. “Here to see our lovely living conditions?”
    “Whiners. I’ll be sleeping on the floor as well.”
    “Don’t you mean hovering above it?” Qurrah asked. The elf shrugged.
    “Same thing. I just wanted to make sure this was fine with you two.”
    Qurrah tilted his head and gave her a funny look. “We would not have joined if we did not so wish.”
    The elf shook her head and poked Harruq.
    “You might not have, but I get the distinct impression this big lug would follow me around wherever I go. And I don’t see you abandoning your brother either, Qurrah. So, humor me. Is all of this good?”
    Harruq walked over, put his arms on her shoulders, and very, very slowly, spoke down to her.
    “We…are…good.”
    “Good,” Aurelia said with a smile before zapping him with electricity from her forefinger. She kissed his forehead as he lay on the ground, tiny bits of smoke trailing from his skin.
    “Ni-ni Harruq, ni-ni Qurrah.”
    “Sleep well, lady Thyne.”
    “Nighters,” Harruq groaned from the floor.
    “You certainly have an interesting way with women, brother,” Qurrah said as he closed the door.
    “You think I insulted her?” he asked.
    “Seems likely. By the way, you need another haircut.”
    “Very funny.”

    T hat night, as the two lay on bedrolls and stared at the ceiling, Harruq broke the silence.
    “Hey, brother?”
    “Yes, Harruq?”
    “This whole thing…things are gonna be different now, aren’t they?”
    “Yes,” Qurrah said softly. “I think they will be.”
    Harruq rolled onto his side and stared at the floor. Yes, things were different now. He wasn’t sure how, he wasn’t sure why, but a new chapter had begun. The question was, what awaited him in those unwritten pages. And more importantly, why was he so troubled by it?
    Qurrah fidgeted, remembering the death of Velixar, and remembering the dust his master had become, nothing but a swirl of gray and white piled underneath garbs of black. It was the fate of all things to become ash and earth, he knew, but what fate lay beyond? He remembered Velixar’s haunting words, and the thought of meeting him again did little to warm his heart. A soft voice, tiny and often ignored, dared speak up in his mind. All men turned to dust. Perhaps his life determined whether his soul, if it existed, would also turn to dust. The path he walked, dark and distant from so many, could it turn him to where the road faded into lightless forests of thorns and graves?
    Neither slept well that night, despite their full bellies and warm blankets.

 
     
     
     
    3

     
    A swift kick stirred Harruq from his dreams. He grunted, forced open a single eye, and then shut it when he saw Qurrah frowning down at him.
    “What do you want?” he asked, the phrase coming out as a single, drowsy word.
    “Sunrise nears. Get up.”
    Then Qurrah dropped Harruq’s heavy leather armor onto his head. The warrior groaned in response.
    “Why should…”
    “My life depends on you,” Qurrah said. “You’ve never been trained before. Here is your chance. Now get up.”
    “Fine. Fine. Fine.” The bleary half-orc rolled the armor off his face and glared up at his brother. “Remember, I’m doing this for you.”
    “I doubt you will let me forget,” Qurrah said, vanishing down the stairs.

    N o games,” Harruq said. He stood behind the tower, his armor buckled tight and his blades in hand. Dew covered his boots. A soft breeze sifted through his hair, the scent of morning awakening his mind. It was still cold in the shadow of the tower, the grass short and thick. The King’s Forest