Minus rolled over in the furs and stretched before he slowly got up, his companion Talena had already been up with their son, walking into the bedroom holding him close to her as she studied Minus’s face. “Do you need to go?” she asked although she already knew the answer. He was a warrior and would never let his men go into battle without him. He sighed heavily because she would ask him the same thing every time he got ready to leave and this morning was no different. “ I will only be gone a few days” he responded as he got dressed then stopped in front of her, placing a kiss on her forehead then gently kissing the top of his son's head as well. “ I will be back before you have time to miss me” he said before heading out of the bedroom and out of the estate.
As he walked the all too familiar path away from his home, something felt different and he wasn't feeling overly confident about the upcoming battle. He and his men had never lost before and he knew he was more than capable but something still ate at him. Was it Talena’s words? She said the same thing every time so why would this time feel so different. Perhaps…no he was not going to let his own doubts affect his ability to fight but the feeling only grew stronger. While passing through town, he stops at a merchant shop and buys a dark cloak with a hood, casually mentioning that it is for a worker back at his estate and sets a small bag of coin on the counter before stepping back onto the street. He stopped into the local tavern, not to drink but to hopefully drown out his own thoughts as he listened to the other men drinking and sharing their own tales and he finally knew what he had to do. He remained in the tavern till he knew that it was dark enough outside before he slipped on the cloak, covering his head with the hood and stepped out into the dimly lit street. He wasn’t exactly sure where to start looking but he walked slowly enough to blend in, peering down each crooked alley near the docks till he caught the scent of incense and burning tallow.
He slowly approached the doorway which was covered with bosk hide and reached out slowly parting them before stepping inside. There was a small lamp hanging from the ceiling, a small wooden table with a fire behind it, a shelf with different sizes of bottles and sitting on a stool in front of the table was an old woman who looked blind but had a very sharp sense of hearing because she greeted him before he had a chance to speak.
“You come seeking my help warrior” she calmly stated as she set a bowl down in front of her, her gnarly fingers lightly touching the sides of it. “Sit down” she said firmly and Minus sat down across from her. “I am preparing for a battle tomorrow and I am questioning whether or not my men and I can win it. I am not the type of man to believe in such things as you but…” she cut him off before he could finish” You want to know if your battle will be a success” her voice is calm but intense. She reaches behind her and grabs a bottle and pops open the lid, she pours the set of larls teeth into the bowl, adding a bit of melted tallow and before he has a chance to react, she uses a sharp pin to pierce his finger, allowing a few drops of blood to drip into the bowl.
Placing the bowl over the small flame she slowly chants in a language he does not understand and gives the contents a stir before pouring it out on the flat stone that rested on top of the table between them and studies it for a moment. She lifts her head and looks at him even though she is blind he feels like she is looking through him. “You will win the battle but it will cost you a sacrifice you may not be willing to give” He leans back and laughs “ I do not care what cost you think I may have to pay, it will be worth it to reap the glory of the battle.” He stood up, knocking over his chair and pulling the hood over his face before disappearing out of her tent and making his way through the streets to catch up with his men, telling them he had been detained but he was now ready and confident in their abilities to conquer and claim the treasure.
It was early the next morning when the battle began, with the sound of men shouting, metal clashing, tarns screeching and arrows whizzing by his head barely missing him and the fight raged on for half of the day. When the dust finally settled there were dead and dying all around them but his men were victorious and they clapped each other on the back, and crowds began to gather to celebrate their win. It was a glorious day for all of them and he was convinced that it was the fortune teller that made it all possible. While standing with his men, he heard a voice calling out to him that felt familiar and as he turned he saw a messenger from his estate push through the crowd, breathless as he ran towards him and fell to his knees “ My Lord, an illness over took the nurseries in the home and there was nothing any of the physicians could do.” He stumbled back as if he had been pushed, not even a sound escaping his throat as he let the words sink in. “How is Talena?” he could barely get the words out. The messenger lowered his eyes, unable to speak and he knew, the rest of the sounds around him seemed to fade away.
At that very moment he knew the price he paid for the victory…the cost of his only family and now he was filled with an overwhelming grief yet intense anger towards the blind woman he felt had tricked him into sacrificing his family, his first born who was to carry on his name, his legacy. He shoved the messenger aside and pushed through the crowds. His only focus now was to find that disgusting old woman and make her fix what she had done to him and his life.
He stormed through the alleys like a hurricane that spun out of control, yanking open every hide covered door in the crooked alley till he found the one he was convinced was hers. Ripping it wide open he was prepared to start yelling but inside he found nothing but an empty room. There wasn't even a trace of footprints in the dirt showing that anyone had ever been there and that is when it finally hit him - there had never been anyone there to begin with. He allowed his pride and arrogance, his fear of losing a battle to conjure up an apparition in his mind, someone who would validate his need to fight. He could have won the battle anyway, but his mind created the fake bargain, the visit, all to justify going into battle and leaving his family behind. She had simply fed into his arrogance and pride, giving him exactly what he wanted but the guilt would never allow him to see that the illness was merely a coincidence and if had not gone out to fight he would have had the last moments with his companion and son before losing them. Now somewhere in the city there were two more graves, and he was now truly alone with his victory.
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