Chapter 4: In-Between

Gaoh had hazarded a few glances into his past in times before his daughter could possibly remember. Had she known where Gibral was, he was sure she would have made her way there without him to satisfy her curiosity. What could have become of her then, he wondered while observing her intent steps. Kro plainly felt just like he did; as if they had come home.

Gibral had exploded far beyond its confines as he had known it in its youth. Maybe that meant Gibralans had somehow become more openminded than he ever dreamed, Gaoh considered. He shook the thought from his head lest it distract him from his goal.

“Shall we?” Gaoh ushered his daughter deeper into Gibral.

Gibralan architecture had been based on its surroundings in the man’s younger years. As a matter of fact, Gaoh had grown in a house hewn from the same stones which birthed the ancestors. He had followed this tradition when making the Howling Cavern where he had raised his daughter more hospitable. Today’s environment still held some influence over the home’s design but was no longer its sole determiner. Refuse from the stone construction, which had once been carelessly discarded, was now chiseled into designs more intricate than even the petrified figures who still stood around the town.

“A little different from what you described…” Kro commented, awestruck.

Ornate ropes climbed into the lush canopy where carefully woven castles swayed gently in the breeze. What was once no more than patches of slung together hammocks had become a masterful tapestry of luxurious quilts. Were these still Gibralans, or did they fancy themselves a community all of their own? Gaoh pondered that almost as much as how they had not yet encountered a member of the legendary Horde though they had come so far into Gibral.

A hacking cough interrupted Gaoh’s thoughts. An elderly man shuffled towards them, blowing weakly into his crooked hands for warmth. Resigning himself to the cold, the man buried his hands in the folds of his cloak. He hummed an eerier tune as he continued; a sound that tore Gaoh from the present and flung him into the past. Everything seemed to stop.

“It couldn’t be…” the colour drained from Gaoh’s face.

To Gaoh’s surprise, a spectre from his youth stood squarely in his path.

“My eyes are not as good as they once were.” the elder man began. “But, if I’m not mistaken, you are in possession of something that has long been lost…” He paused as if realizing the reality of his situation.

“Indeed I am.” Gaoh chuckled, lowering his hood.

“Heavens…” the old man managed hoarsely, moving closer to be sure of what he was seeing.

The two men stood still for a moment, regarding each other with equal disbelief.

“Orek?” Gaoh asked incredulously.

“Heavens..” the old man repeated, overcome with emotion. “Is that you, Gaoh?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

Orek was one of the Horde’s many Heads like his father before him, and his father born from the old stone. Descended from the saviours who stood against the serpent, they directed Gibral. It was him who had been at Gaoh’s bedside when he first returned from his childhood misadventure.

“It is.” Gaoh responded, tickled by what havoc time had wrought on someone whose presence once suffocated. “How are you, old man?” He asked, smirking.

They grasped each other’s forearms by way of a greeting as done among the ancient Gibralans. Gaoh knew that this was a test of some sort which would cause the eyes at their backs to become blades at their throats. Orek sputtered at the realization that it was no product of senility.

“I have either lived long enough to experience a miracle, or inadvertently strolled into the Afterlife on my evening walk.” Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Hopefully more of the former than the latter.” Gaoh laughed deeply. “A notion that I hope is best expressed through whom I have returned alongside.” he gently nudged his child in front of him. “I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Kro.” The man said, swelling with pride.

The old man inhaled sharply as the young woman lowered her hood. She was the picture of the woman who vanished alongside Gaoh so many years prior. Cheeks and chin ruddy from the elements, Kro was a vision of haunting beauty.

“Kro…?” Orek croaked with a mask of recognition as his wobbling legs carried him forward. “...Your daughter?” He stopped short with a wavering voice, suddenly snapping out of his reverie.

Looking at her now, there were minor differences from the woman the old man knew. She lacked the beauty marks forming a crescent from the corner of her left eye to her cheekbone, but she bore the same deep brown eyes as her predecessor. Her darker complexion alone lent her a more fierce air than her mother could ever muster. The older woman had borne a beauty only outshone by a madness over the unknown, whereas her daughter appeared to be contending with something more. Orek seemed to shrink, smiling awkwardly while fumbling with a small pouch tied around his waist with a string. Even from this distance, Kro could tell it was frogskin.

“Yes…” the elderly man said with a twinge of sadness. “Just as much of a sight as her mother.” His smile did not reach his eyes.

Kro leaned against a nearby building while the two men excitedly caught up on the years apart. She smiled, never having seen her father as animated as he was now and felt a warmth at the sight. Her own curitousities could wait, this would be good for him.

The men shared what they had lost and found in such separate positions. Orek spoke about how Gibral had grown in Gaoh’s absence in exchange for how the man had raised his daughter in the wild. Gibral had spread further than the old man had wanted in his younger days, but this had led to lesser visits from the monsters lingering among the trees. Gaoh described some of the creatures he had seen which were unknown to his homeland. He would leave it to Kro to tell the story of conquering her namesake.

Finally, Orek requested that they seek shelter from the cold at the tavern in the towncenter. He described it as somewhere the townspeople always gathered despite the weather as Gaoh should recall his father having done.

“You can’t mean…?” A disbelieving grin broke across the man’s face.

“I’m sure the average crowd of the Orsk would love to learn what such an avid adventurer had done and seen.” The old man enticed.

Gaoh mulled over the suggestion. More than anything, he still held his suspicions that Gibral wore a mask. Someone of Orek’s status could only have come upon them alone by his design. Those tracking them past had carried news of their arrival throughout the town. It felt more like they were being lured in instead of facing something immovable as accustomed.

The man looked at the eagerly shifting elder. Even in their younger days, Orek had made him uncomfortable. Gaoh was sure that this man played some part in his suspicions around his first return from the outside world. His standing had allowed him to make more moves than most as shown when the old man had been the only one there alongside the healer. It was just as likely that he played some part in his family’s departure from Gibral went so smoothly, he mused. Gaoh looked back at his equally discomforted daughter before he agreed.

Kro tried to ignore the movement in the corner of her eye while the men spoke. Orek made her more uncomfortable than anything had before, but she could not tell why. It took more than courage not to pull back when the elderly man’s gnarled fingers reached for her face. Although her father had made her practice patience under duress, it was his reassuring look which emboldened her in the moment. Letting someone like that catch a whiff of weakness could spell her end.

Gaoh smiled at her attention to details that he himself was fighting not to address. Doing so now would upend everything that he intended to pursue in bringing his daughter here. The man briefly wondered whether he should have included her as more than a vehicle towards meeting his goal and started off with the old man.

The girl fell in behind them. Unlike what she had assumed, her father was her sole true tether to the heritage she dreamt of belonging to. The townspeople’s animosity leaked from the windows cracked to keep the houses from boiling over. How different would their experience be if it was not for Orek’s company.

Her head whipped towards the sound of footsteps fading into the distance away from them. She swore she heard the echo time and again as they worked their way through the tangle of mostly empty roads. Kro questioned if the footsteps like the eyes she felt following them were simply her mind reacting to unfamiliar settings. A nervous response getting the best of her after all of her training. Regardless, she gingerly stroked the pommel of one of the blades lining her coat.

Orek greeted every soul they happened upon, urging them to meet at the tavern. He even excused himself from time to time, conducting clipped conversations which went unheard by the two, though they were sure the words remained the same. Tonight, the Orsk boasted more than the regular rabble. They would be treated to tales of great terrors lying outside of Gibral by the first to survive them. Each time, those the old man propositioned would eye the two accompanying him before answering. Their responses were mostly favourable while those who refused scuttled away as if fearing a lash.

“Let us pick up the pace.” the old man said finally, stroking his pouch as he drew his cloak in around him for protection from the cold. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that things in Gibral have advanced beyond what we once preached–.” He began.

“What about the others who were raised in that time?” Gaoh interrupted.

The elderly man chuckled.

“The change did not occur so swiftly for it to be met with much resistance.” He responded, slightly smug.

“I see.” Gaoh accepted without any recourse to challenge him. “Would you begrudge me a moment alone with my daughter before we arrive?” He asked expectantly.

Orek paused to ponder the man’s words. Indeed the girl might have some difficulty with so many characters in one place after growing up without more than her father and the animals. He looked at Kro for a moment and nodded his agreement.

Gaoh herded her out of earshot but kept a hushed tone.

“Things are different like the old man says.” he cast a glance over his shoulder to ensure the elderly man had remained in place. “But, the important locations still remain if the Orsk is any testament.” The man said, hoping she knew he was saying more than the words.

He rest his hands on Kro’s shoulders and gave her a solemn look.

“No matter what happens, do not open this until you know it is time.” Gaoh handed her a small package out of Orek’s sight.

Pressing the mystery parcel against her body, the girl guessed at the contents. Much to her fascination, it felt like a bundle of papers neatly bound. How would she know when it was time? Kro wondered this as she and her father rejoined the old man on their way to the tavern.

“Welcome to the Orsk.” Orek claimed proudly as the building came into view.

A sweeping, three storey building loomed ahead with windows as vast as the Orsk’s immense entry doors which themselves were wide enough to walk a carriage through. Its base had been carved from a great tree in times long forgotten as exhibited by the indiscriminately protruding additions that plagued its frame. Men and women in various modes of undress silently leered at them from the upper levels as they approached. Kro shifted her focus back to her blades.

Orek swung open the doors onto a lively scene with great gusto. Women of the establishment standing under the eaves solicited those they believed worth their talents as long as they could withstand them. Tankards clamoured and their contents sloshed around shouts paired with raucous laughter. Everything ceased when the trio entered.

All attention fell upon them with enough pressure that their knees felt like they might buckle should they stop moving. Kro’s grip instinctively tightened on her weapons. The room held its breath while tracking them to the bar set into the far wall.

“Welcome back to Gibral.” Orek snorted before addressing the tavern. “Be well all, these are my honoured guests.” he called out. “Be well.”

Sparse muttering morphed into fleeting conversations chasing each other around the room while most returned focus to their tables. They wondered whether those flanking the old man were truly who and what was advertised. Was it all really worth the temperatures that Orek convinced them to brave?

Orek ignored the attention as if he was used to it. He rapped his knuckles sharply on the bar to summon the bartender.

“Three ales.” He gestured to those with him.

The bartender offered a nod and scurried off to fulfill the request.

“Some things never change.” Gaoh said under his breath.

“And others do.” Orek contested, offering his guests their cups. “To your health.” He raised his tankard before drinking deeply.

Gaoh and Kro monitored him for some reaction. Satisfied that their drinks had not been tampered with, the two similarly indulged themselves. Slight bitterness was chased by mellow sweetness and alcohol’s tart bite boldly traipsed across their tongues. Orek nodded to a vacant area where they could speak more freely.

The elderly man listened to more about Kro’s upbringing over their drinks. She realized her father was dancing around the revelation that he had taken up residence at the Howling Cavern the more he spoke. Whatever his reason, she would do her best not to intervene.

When Gaoh first returned to Gibral, he had been surprised that no one questioned the hunt which had led to his mangled state. None of his companions’ relatives sought him out for answers, seemingly content with the trinkets borne upon his return. Not even his parents had visited often nor asked too much when they finally got him home. Only Orek and the healer had shown such open curiousity about what he had done.

Every excruciating moment of his endeavour was as seared into his brain as it was etched into his flesh. If Gaoh did not suspect Orek, he would have shared it all with him then. Instead, he found himself carefully picking his words like he was doing again now. Had the healer been interested in more than his wounds, it could have been him that was confided in. He wanted to place his trust in someone who would not weaponize his vulnerability against him. The woman who became the mother of his child was the only offer to unburden himself that he took seriously given her circumstances.

Where everyone else appeared afraid to ask, Kro’s reputation meant she was already exempt. Gaoh had been the first person who listened to her in earnest while everyone else thought that she was insane. In response he shared everything he could recall of the day he became a man.

Since his partner’s passing, Gaoh had a lot of time to work things through by himself. Orek played too great a part in their lives for his influence to go unrealized. The elderly man appeared at too many crucial points for his contributions to be purely coincidental. This would be their only chance to change even a fraction of it.

Orek visibly deflated when he learned the older Kro died in childbirth. His responses to what Gaoh endured in her absence were noticeably lackluster for someone who should have cared. He only truly showed interest again while Gaoh spoke about what hardships he faced in feeding himself and his child with what wildlife lived around their abode. The daughter swore the man’s mood subtly shifted to budding anger though her father continued his tale.

The elderly man questioned how Gibralan the girl could be when raised apart from the Horde. They had made great strides that Gaoh would have not been aware of, he thought with a hidden sneer. There was no way she held a candle to anyone raised under his watch given what the man had described.

“I know I introduced her as my daughter but that is not the accomplishment by any stretch.” Gaoh sipped from his tankard. “For one, she has overcome her own trial.” He put his cup down.

Orek turned to her, surprised by the revelation.

“Is this true?” he asked the woman who nodded in response. “What did you hunt?” The old man queried.

“She found and slew what you and the others told us all could not possibly exist.” Gaoh cut in before she could even offer a nod.

Emboldened by drink and oblivious to the shock settling on the old man’s face, one of the patrons stumbled close. Overwhelmed by curiousity, he lingered in the hopes of catching a sliver of the conversation among the three. Struggling to stay on his feet, the elderly man finally caught a glimpse of Orek’s guests’ faces. Starstruck, the curious man staggered to his table on trembling legs and collapsed into his seat.

His reaction was enough for scattered rumblings to erupt among the customers. What ghost could have made itself known to have such an effect? Tales of a lost son of the soil’s return from the unknown had found further fuel than the old man’s word.

Orek took a deep gulp before he stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Silence wafted through the room.

“Welcome one and all to an event I myself scarcely believed I would have the fortune to host.” he flung his arms wide. “Tonight we are visited by a spirit of Gibral alongside what we can call a symbol of what we have the potential to become.” the elderly man shook his head morosely. “Moreover, tonight we allow them to rejoin the motherland, and be of service.” He rested a hand over his heart.

Man and woman alike gaped at the two seated near the speaker as if they had sprouted a spare head between their shoulders. One had been visible from the start while its counterpart could only be seen in the right light. Kro kept track of the perplexed onlookers pouring into the building already swollen with chatter about her father.

“I am not sure how many of you will remember the great Gaoh.” Orek continued. “His story has been something of a cautionary tale told to naughty children who go too far.” He chuckled.

Kro smiled at her father over the rim of her cup.

“You see, after the stone serpent was slain.” Orek paused as the crowd whooped and cheered. “We took to guarding our grounds by building the Horde,” he paused again. “At some point after, we decided to slowly expand our small scrap of land where we began learning to be a society unruled by fear of what awaits in the dark.” The old man said proudly.

“FOR THE HONOUR OF THE HORDE!” Several shout in response with drinks held high.

Orek raised his cup to answer.

“The fact is that since the serpent there have been only two incidents where anything has crossed our borders.” his dark eyes shone as his tone shifted from admiration to frustration. “Both of these involved Gaoh.” He pointed at the man he had been sitting with.

Ever the accomplished orator, the elderly man let the crowd’s gasps punctuate his speech before letting his voice reach the rafters.

“See their black furs?” Orek searched the faces in the crowd. “As some of you were undoubtedly told, Gaoh returned to Gibral wrapped in those skins alone when he became a man.” he moved towards the two and raised the fabric into the light. “Look at the size of it.” the old man marvelled. “Can you imagine the avatar of Death who must have visited him out there, and yet he withstood.” He took a great swig as his eyes took on a manic gleam.

Gaoh wore the ghost of a grin throughout Orek’s exposition. The elderly man had framed him as the wayward child who suffered greatly for his mistake like anyone in his position would. He turned to his daughter who was enrapt in this retelling of her bedtime stories.

The old man continued.

“These midnight black furs are so much more than wards against the cold.” he entreated. “They are symbols of our people’s pride of what we can overcome.” Orek said.

Kro shared the rest of the crowd’s awe. She knew her furs as what she had been swaddled in by her mother since birth. Her father never mentioned any further importance than that.

“Written into his skin is evidence of claws so colossal that nightmares could fathom,” he mimed scratching at the air. “Yet, he came back to us.” the elderly man’s tone simmered. “It is thanks to him overcoming our guard which turned the Horde’s sights outwards as was needed.” he raised his cup, motioning for the audience to join him in the gesture. “We thank you for your contributions to our growth.” The room exploded into cheers.

She nursed her drink while considering Orek’s version of events. Her father portrayed his scars as an eternal reminder of his greatest shame. They were the price he paid to atone for having disobeyed his elders and straying too far. The price of him becoming a man. Kro wondered what else her father had neglected to tell her all these years.

“Unfortunately, these laurels were not to be rested upon.” he said bitterly. “Only to return having produced a gem of their own.” the elderly man gestured to Kro. “Welcome them home.” he turned back to his guests with a cheeky grin. “Best to get it over with, I think.” He said with a shrug.

Phantoms from Gaoh’s past visited them alongside faces reminiscent of that long gone day. He preferred revelling in the nostalgia of nearly forgotten experiences around Gibral instead of succumbing to requests to relive his life in that far-flung cave. All the same, Gaoh made sure not to lose sight of his daughter getting whisked further and further away by the waves of people falling upon them.

Though the talking around her never ceased, Kro felt tense. Maybe it was just her nerves getting the best of her again, she thought while struggling to breathe. The girl recorded every face she could like her father had taught her to do in an effort to calm herself under such circumstances. Her eyes met Gaoh’s then, and he gave her a nod.

Kro emptied her tankard and pushed towards the position she had planned since walking in. The sea of spectators began parting in front of her like a teeming tide held at bay as if sensing her intent. Bannisters lining the upper tiers creaked as those charmed by the old man’s tale leaned over for a better view. Fingers anxiously trembling, she let her furs fall to the floor with a thump. Silver gleamed in the flickering light cast from the many sconces ran from collar to mid-thigh with hints at her shins and forearm. The girl pulled a cowl of thin steel over her head and waited.

“Heavens…” Orek whispered in astonishment.

Shadows stole across the faces of those in attendance while silence reasserted itself. Armoured plates laid over more of their own like feathers, but how could that be? They knew that the technique for working Gibralan steel into such patterns had long been lost to them. Modern Gibralans were only capable of reworking the heirlooms they were handed down. Moreover, such tasks demanded skill and time committed to the craft which the girl could not possibly possess.

All eyes turned to Orek, wondering if they had finally imbibed far too much. The Horde had maintained that nothing existed in this world that was born with its own steel. Tales like those of Kro assuaged the people’s primal fears of what could lie in wait outside Gibral. The elderly man’s gaze grew darker by the moment.

“Like father, like daughter.” Orek contributed to the circulating bewilderment.

Nervous laughter sporadically cut through the quiet until the audience again found their nerve. A torrent of questions swept away whatever crumb of the silence remained.

“Did you fashion this from steel?” One asked with eyes agleam.

“Can’t you see it, fool?” another challenged. “These are feathers!” They exclaimed.

“Impossible!” Screeched someone.

“It is before our eyes!” Exclaimed a bewildered voice.

Thirsty for more from the two, the numbers around them never waned or let their cups run dry.

“Where did you find such a creature?” Inquired another person who did not allow her the time to respond.

“How did you slay it?” The next asked.

Kro thought it was amazing how alone she felt among what should be her own kind. Who would have believed she would miss being home with her father as much as she did now. She saw it on his face that he felt the same thing whenever they happened to exchange looks. Maybe she was not Gibralan like the old man had suggested after all.

Orek burped loudly and began moving through the crowd. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted above the din.

“I’ll be back shortly!” he called out. “Take good care of my guests while I am away.” The old man said as he retreated up the stairs.

The change in the elderly man’s absence was gradual and nearly unnoticeable had the two not had their wits about them. Kro would wonder if the tension that plagued her throughout the day and forced her to seek fresh air from the nearest window was actually fate making itself known. More than anything, she wondered why her father had not been so lucky.

Gaoh offered no resistance to the knife that flashed at his back because there was no need to. Had it not been for the shocked look on the man’s face when his blade did not connect, Gaoh would have thought that he was just bumped into by someone overeager. He threw his drink into his attacker’s face and bashed the closest person in the side of the head with his mug before anyone else could react. So it begins, Gaoh thought as he overturned a table to give himself some distance.

“KRO!” he bellowed. “GO!” The man ordered with the knowledge that the seed he had hoped for was sown.

The girl pitched herself through the window without a second thought at her father’s yell. Every hand that reached out to hold her back recoiled with deep cuts from the sharpened steel that composed her attire. Gaoh grinned as the sound of her steel faded away into the night.

“FOOLS!” a voice thundered from somewhere up on high. “The creature could possess your family like the girl it has taken the form of.” its every word dripped with malice. “You have only yourselves to blame.” Its last threat faded into a hiss.

Gaoh laughed loudly at the claim.

“Is that the story he has fed you?” his laugh grew. “Is that what you choose to believe in spite of all that you have seen this eve?” the man scoffed. “I see that Gibral has only grown more cowardly, not advanced.” he said regretfully. “Kro is as much of a monster as I am!” Gaoh raised his voice to quiet those attempting to lay blame instead of following her escape. “As much of a monster as her mother was.” He said, attempting to reign in his emotions.

Then came the laugh; a cold, harsh cackle that made his bones shudder.

“So you admit that she is kin to ghosts.” its wicked smile was audible. “But worry not, we will not let you two be apart long.” it said resolutely. “You will not plague Gibral with more of the darkness than what has clung to you since you somehow returned from Hell.” the voice spat in disgust.

“You will only have my life if you come to take it yourself, Orek.” Gaoh drew his axe and waited for the Horde to approach.

The speaker paused as if caught off guard.

“When did you know?” the old man asked while shuffling into the light. “No matter,” he said resolutely. “It’s too late to make much of a difference.” Orek resigned with a shrug.

“While in Hell.” Gaoh said defiantly. “As much as my daughter must have realized something was awry when we met a Head of the Horde but found no trace of a patrol.” The man smirked.

Orek grunted in acknowledgement.

“I admit that I might have been overzealous in my approach because I was so excited at the very prospect of this encounter.” he conceded after some thought. “There is something that you have not figured out yet though…” the old man paused before breaking into a wicked smile. “The Horde now bears only one head.” He said menacingly.

The elderly man savoured the flicker of confusion he saw flash across Gaoh’s face.

“Without characters like you and Kro mucking everything up, my ascent made perfect sense.” his cold stare washed over the readied man. “It was long overdue.” Orek waved away the thought for a more pressing query. “Why did you accompany me here knowing what you did, and with your child no less?” He asked incredulously.

“It was the easiest means to effect change.” Gaoh replied simply. “From the looks of your men, I’d say it has already begun.” Wielding his furs in front of him like a shield, he charged the crowd with his axe ready.

Satha watches Gaoh’s demise for the umpteenth time through the Pools. Kro singlemindedly fled through Gibral, not knowing how these events would haunt her for the rest of her days. Why had she tried to stifle the uneasiness she felt from the minute the first eyes fell upon them? It all teases the fringes of her clouded memory like a faint itch which she could not quite reach.

‘Everything is as it should be’. The mantra echoes in her wandering mind, trying to instill some sense of relief. She wonders for a moment if those Below had anything to hold them so sweetly as those Above. She wonders this though she already knows better. All that those Below had was the prospect of the Afterlife to look forward to where such comforts were commonplace.

A chill runs down Satha’s spine, causing her to hug her shoulders for some respite. She closes her eyes, trying to chase the fog from her thoughts. Who was she? Kro must be contemplating her identity without her father the same way that she was considering hers. The woman shook her head and turned her focus back to the Pool.

Terror at what was to transpire rooted her to the spot. Gaoh had lain waste to more of the room than one may think a solitary man capable on his own. Still, the Horde overtook him with the strength of sheer numbers.

Wicked glee shines in Orek’s beady little eyes. The others had stripped away Gaoh’s clothing and weapons alike to share among themselves before peeling him from the floor. Beaten beyond recognition and riddled with leaks, he is thrown onto the floor in front of the old man. With the last of his strength, Gaoh rolls onto his back and gives a bloody smile. Infuriated, the elderly man falls upon him with his blade plunging into the younger man repeatedly until he finds relief from all the years of frustration that the man had caused.

“As requested.” Orek spit onto the floor.