Sebi had seen cursed people do strange, sometimes even violent things before. While he wasn’t a mystic, illness and the occult often came hand-in-hand, so he knew a thing or two. The Azalea girl being possessed by a spirit so potent… It warranted further investigation.

  But Rae was unwilling to pause in their dogged march east until they had passed several horizons from where the incident occurred. He chatted as they walked, his eyes set ahead with determined gleam. Sebi’s bedside manner wasn’t the best. His Duke and the other masters at camp Bejuk had said his lack of understanding in this matter was his sole flaw. But in the short time he had known the new Shak, he had inexplicably learnt to read him.

  The way he stubbornly pushed them forward, the painfully tight clench he kept his -injured!- hand in, the way he eased his teasing of his two companions… He was troubled by that encounter. Shaken by it.

  It was on the third day when Zott had wandered off to find some food, that Sebi broached the topic.

  “The encounter with the cursed girl… Are you still disturbed by it?”

  Rae shrugged, and Sebi waited. In the silence, he took Rae’s hand, feeling a jolt of surprise before removing the glove and turning it over to inspect the wound there.

  “I don’t know what to make of it,” Rae said.

  “It was something unnatural and savage, inside of her. But it will expelled when she is returned to the camp, the witch’s power will be weaker there,”

  “Hmm…” Rae said.

  The wound on Rae’s hand hadn’t been too severe, a thin line scored across his palm. It must be painful, Sebi thought, and vulnerable to infection… It will hinder his use of a bow…

  He wordlessly took out his wound salve and started applying it generously, avoiding looking directly at Rae’s anxious expression.

  “What else is bothering you?”

  “There was something she said. Something I can’t quite explain…”

  Sebi waited some more. Rae’s fingers were very soft and pale.

  “She knew me…”

  “You mean she recognised you?”

  “I don’t know. I’d never met her before that day. But when the curse overtook her, she called me the Shak, and she seemed so full of rage…”

  She knew him… Sebi wracked his brain, but his knowledge of the mystic arts was too limited.

  “Witches are mysterious by their nature. And it makes sense they would know the Shak…” he mused. Looking at Rae’s face, it was clear the thought had already occurred to him.

  It was said that the place where the Shak’s people lived, between the foothills marked by boundary stones and the treeline, was once only the domain of witches. The first Shak, the tamer, was the one who led his people into the wilds. He was the one who hallowed the ground beneath the camps and taught his people to live off the forest. Of course, the witches, who begrudgingly allowed this incursion, would know the Shak by sight alone.

  Sebi’s head hurt, “We should consult with the Camp Ashem mystic. They will be able to put your mind at ease,”

  Rae was worrying his lip, “yes,” he said.

  He’s cute, Sebi thought, no wonder Ven took a liking to him.

  “Don’t worry about that now. We still have a long way to go,”

  Rae nodded. “Thank you for all your help. Zott and I have caused you a lot of trouble, but you’ve so kindly taken care of us both,”

  Sebi schooled his expression. Don’t blush. Don’t smile. Don’t nod. He settled on a scowl. At this sight, for some reason, Rae blossomed into a smile.

  He had been teased by much more relentless opponents and knew better than to ask what was so funny.

  “Let me make you something. Something sweet. Something to settle your thoughts,” Sebi said, and already a recipe was taking shape.

  Dried Lavender buds, mountain moss, blue bellwort, and plenty of honey. Heated gently upon the fire.

  The smell of Sebi’s calming concoction was still wafting around the camp when Zott returned.

  The healer had brewed it into a tea, and immediately after drinking it, Rae had settled down in his furs for a doze.

  “Don’t make a racket, he’s sleeping,” Sebi said.

  The Ashem’s beast scowled and sat beside the fire without a word. He had caught fish and started preparing them for smoking. Sebi busied himself with organising his medicinal supplies.

  Sebi had grown accustomed to seeing this man, the so-called Ashem beast, lurking around the Shak’s camp whenever Young Master Ven was present. They had never approached or even spoken a word to each other, but Sebi had heard things.

  “The one who’s always following me, like a shadow? Ignore him, darling. I only have eyes for you,” Ven had said once. And Sebi tried to hit him.

  Ven caught his fist, and once a part of Sebi was captured he wouldn’t let go. He rubbed his thumb against Sebi’s knuckles.

  “Is he a servant?” Sebi asked.

  “He’s a lost soul we took in, but he likes to think he’s my father’s right hand,”

  Ven sneered as he told this history as if it were something pathetic. To Sebi, it sounded awfully familiar… But he didn’t say anything. Ven was troublesome, and sometimes thoughtless, but he wasn’t worth arguing with.

  “Like I said, ignore him. He may be off-putting, but he’s harmless,”

  Since leaving the Shak’s camp, he and Ven had exchanged correspondence. Ven asked him for advice about the spreading disease, and eventually begged for Sebi to come and see it in person. Additionally, he had revealed that he had left that loyal dog of his to watch over the Shak…

  …I thought you said he caused you nothing but trouble. Is it really safe to leave him alone with the Shak?…

  …He is troublesome. But only because he follows orders too well. He’ll protect the Shak for me. Plus, I get a lot more freedom to do as I please without him watching over me…

  …Do what you please? Does the Shak know what you get up to over there?…

  …Young master Sebi, what are you imagining? I thought you were pure-hearted like me…

  “Your master,” Sebi said, barely above a whisper, “what are his intentions toward the Shak?”

  Together, Sebi and Zott glanced at Rae’s sleeping form. The night was quiet.

  “The baby was a shali. So, the Ashem have no claim… My Duke is satisfied to leave things as they are,”

  “I wasn’t asking about the Duke,” Sebi said.

  “Oh… Young master Ven?”

  Sebi nodded, and the silence was suffocating.

  “He…” Zott went quiet, his brow furrowed.

  “I already know his feelings, and your purpose here. I want to know if you believe his intentions are pure,”

  “…”

  The beast had such a sour look on his face, Sebi worried they might come to blows again. If they did, the Shak’s peaceful rest would be ruined.

  “Young master Ven… isn’t a fool,” Zott spoke carefully, “And the Shak isn’t either. He doesn’t need you watching over him from behind the scenes,”

  “Because he has you?”

  “Because he’s not an idiot. You think that because he has a cute face, he’s as helpless as a lamb? He knows my master and chooses to entertain him anyway. What more is there to talk about?”

  Sebi was struck speechless. He wanted to hurl some barb back at Zott, make him regret what he had said. He wasn’t asking because of the Shak’s cute face! His concern was purely professional. Or professionally pure. He thought of some really viscous insults but the words caught in his throat.

  Am I really so shallow? He wondered. From the moment he saw the new Shak, he had clinically noted his appearance. He was youthful, with clear, pale skin. Striking black hair, and large eyes. Slender limbs like willow vines, but round and rosy in his face. He knew those things were beautiful, many had pointed them out in himself. And coveted them, chased them, lusted after them. In ways that made Sebi sick.

  Sebi’s head hurt. Am I really so…

  “What about you? Are your intentions pure?” Zott asked.

  The trails of smoke rising on the horizon, fed by Camp Ashem’s hearths, could not have been a more welcome sight. Here, with only one more valley between them and their destination, Sebi let out a sigh.

  Sebi, Rae, and Zott had settled back into their old routine. Sebi would tend to the other two’s healing injuries. Zott would sneer at him. Sebi would snap back. Rae would appeal to pacifism. And they would both relent.

  Sebi would wonder if his acquiescence was evidence of impure intentions. The stress of that made him forget he would soon be meeting with Ven Ashem, who had been the most irritating man he’d known for at least ten years.

  “If we hurry, we’ll be there before sunset,” Rae smiled.

  “Don’t rush, the last thing we need is you hurting yourself again,” Zott said.

  You’re one to talk, Sebi didn’t say.

  It was a good thing he didn’t because Rae seemed to find Zott’s pointless chiding amusing. He sunnily led them down the ridge, and let out a cry.

  “Look there! Look at that path!” He was pointing at the path twisting through the valley ahead of them, “It’s paved!”

  Outside the Shak’s camp, there were few paved roads in the mountains. Even in the Shak’s camp, the paved roads were limited to the area around the palace, between the most important residences. Here, a thin grey line snaked between the trees as far as the eye could see in both directions.

  “That’s where imperial wealth flows north,” Sebi said.

  “It goes all the way to the imperial capital?”

  “That’s what they say,” in truth, Sebi didn’t know, “and no one knows how far north it goes,”

  The mountains here were lower than where they had come from and less rugged, so they made quick progress. They marvelled at the paved road and found where it branched into four points: a well-worn rocky path heading east to the Shak’s camp, a road heading north, a road heading south, and one more sloping up towards Camp Ashem.

  “The caravans come up this way?” Rae asked.

  Zott answered “If recent news is to be believed, not recently,”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.