Arvenus watched the horizon with patient intensity. His eyes flickered back and forth, from the giant oak far to the left of him, to the decrepit remnants of an old farmstead far away on his right. “I know I saw something out there,” he muttered, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the bloody sunlight piercing the earth.

“I’m sure you did,” Analin placated from behind him. “But I don’t see anything now. And we’re quickly losing light, my love. We should get moving.”

Arvenus nodded, a barely perceptible dip of his chin. He scratched at the coarse hair that peppered his jaw, the shadow of doubt burrowing in his mind. What had he really seen, there against the horizon? So many hours spent traveling, and on such little sleep. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him. He replayed the scene in his mind. The bray of their mule as they crested the hill, the whisper of hooves beating the packed dirt, the ghost of a man standing on the horizon.

Arvenus blinked hard, rubbing his eyes. Perhaps it was nothing. But out there, along the miles of empty land and trails that led to the city of Mano; well, you could never be too careful. With a soft sigh, he turned his attention back to his soon-to-be wife.

“We’re getting low on water,” Analin said, placing her foot in the stirrup and hefting herself onto the mule’s back. “Vreya drank most of what we had left.”

Arvenus patted the mule’s neck affectionately. “You should have been born a hog, Vreya,” he murmured into the mule’s ear.

Analin chuckled. “Much the worse for us, as we’d have to walk all this way rather than ride.”

“Speak for yourself, love,” Arvenus said with a grin. “My shoes are split and my toes bloody from all the walking I’ve done. Yet yours remain perfectly whole from what I can see.”

Her nose crinkled as she made a face at him. “You’d kill poor Vreya if you rode her,” she teased. “Besides, if all goes as planned, you’ll have to get used to giving my delicate needs precedence.”

She was right, of course. In this, just as she was in all other aspects of their lives. She was his compass, his guiding light in a wayward world full of shadows and despair. She was wise beyond her years and enigmatic in a way that vexed and intrigued him, even after all the years he had known her.

Vreya’s loud bray echoed across the empty expanse and she began to trot forward reluctantly. They ambled on for a time, Arvenus increasing the pace as the milky light of the moon crept higher overhead. Pinpricks of white light twinkled above, stars that danced and shimmered in place. Arvenus looked to them, and imagined the Gods smiling down on their journey.

“You know, you’ll have to thank my father when this is all said and done,” Analin whispered as the shadows lengthened around them.

His back straightened at her words, his movements suddenly rigid. “I didn’t ask for his help,” Arvenus bristled, pulling the mule faster.

“You didn’t have to,” she argued. “He wants this child as much as we do. He loves you like a son, Arvenus. He would do anything for you. Why can’t you see that?”

He clenched his jaw, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “It isn’t right for us to take from him,” he said at last. “Not now. Not when everyone is struggling. People can’t even put food on the table and here we are taking such a sum. It’s unconscionable.”

“He has it to give,” Analin pointed out. “And there’s nothing we can do for those that are starving. Or have you forgotten that we struggle as well?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Arvenus shouted. “That’s the problem. When these Ether shards could go to so many other things. But this, this is what he chooses to pay for. This is what he wishes to fund. Another mouth to feed, another child born to poverty.”

Analin looked as if his words had hit her like a fist to the stomach. “Are you saying you don’t want this child?” she asked, her voice deadly quiet.

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying–”

The frantic whinny of a horse sounded to their left, one that was soon joined by the sound of dozens of hooves pounding into the earth. Vreya snorted at the sound, pulling on the reins attached to her bit as she stepped backwards.

“Hush,” Arvenus uttered soothingly, patting the mule’s neck. He turned toward the sound, eyes squinting through the darkness. Another whinny and the hairs on his neck stood on end.

“We need to go,” he whispered, urging Vreya onwards. But the mule balked at his tug on the reins, digging her feet into the dirt with another snort.

And then he saw them. From the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of over a dozen men on horseback. They raced like the wind, flying on hooves that seemed to skip along the grass.

“Now, Vreya,” Arvenus hissed, pulling sharply on her lead. With a loud bray she stepped forward.

“Arvenus?” Analin said, her voice high and frightened.

“It’s alright, love,” he murmured, trying to force as much reassurance into his voice as he could. “Bandits. That’s all. But we need to get off the road. We can’t get stopped by them, not with the amount of Ether shards in my satchel. If they find that, we’re as good as dead.”

He pulled the mule off the beaten path, through thick, knee-high grasses that tangled between his feet. He could hear the bandits creeping closer, and he scoured the open field, searching for any kind of cover that might shelter them.

In the near distance stood a thicket of trees, and between them shrubbery tall enough to kneel in. He sent a silent thanks to the Gods for their good fortune and set off at a jog toward them.

The ring of a bronze sword slipping free of its scabbard resounded across the plains, peals of laughter following in its wake. Had the bandits chanced across some other poor wretched soul? Arvenus didn’t know, and he had no intention of stopping to find out.

Pulling hard on Vreya’s reins, Arvenus made short work of the distance between them and the thicket. Before she could dismount, he grabbed Analin about the waist and hoisted her from the saddle, trying to ignore the frantic way his heart beat within his chest. He flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, before pulling her down into the thicket with him.

Analin wrapped her hands around her beloved’s arm, pulling his ear against her lips.

“What about Vreya?” she hissed.

“We can’t hide her,” Arvenus said with a shake of his head. “There isn’t room or time.”

Reaching an arm through the tall grasses, Arvenus swiftly smacked the mule’s rear. With an angry bray, Vreya charged through the field, disappearing into the darkness.

“We’ll find her when this is over,” he whispered, pulling his betrothed into his arms. Though her lips pursed in a thin line, Analin remained quiet. For a heartbeat they listened to the stillness of the night around them, the sound of the wind being the only thing they could hear.

But then the sound of hooves thumping against the hard-packed dirt vibrated through the air and shattered the quietude of the moment. Arvenus held his breath, peering through the thick leaves that hid him.

Flashes of orange light flickered from torches as the bandits slowed to a stop less than ten paces away.

“There’s tracks here, Kenderik,” one of them said. His voice sounded like a heap of rocks grating together inside a sack, and even in the darkness Arvenus could see his hair was lank and greasy.

“Where do they lead?”

The words were sharp, biting. Arvenus had no doubt that the man that spoke them would rip him in half for far less than what he was carrying at that moment. He attempted to swallow the tight lump bulging in his throat, sending a silent prayer to the Gods that they might protect himself and Analin.

“They’re too shallow in the dirt. They made off into the tall grass, I know that much,” the greasy man said, nodding in their direction. “No way to tell how old they are though. S’pose they could be anywhere by now.”

“Check the grass,” Kenderik commanded, and the thud of heavy footfalls in the dirt echoed one after another.

Trying to hide the panic in his eyes, Arvenus placed a hand over Analin’s pale mouth. Her wide eyes pleaded with him, but he turned her away as slowly and carefully as he could.

Arvenus shut his eyes. He didn’t want to see what was happening. The stone in his stomach told him he would be dead soon. The best he could hope for was that Analin would survive. That she would escape and make her way back home to her father. She would be safe there, with him. And Arvenus could die happy, knowing that he had died to protect her.

As the grasses near them rustled and the branches of the thicket around them began to snap under the weight of their pursuers’ prying hands, the desperate scream of a mule pierced the air.

“That must be why there’s no tracks left,” the greasy haired man muttered excitedly above them. “They stole away on a damned mule.”

“On your horses then,” Kenderik shouted, and in a heartbeat the few men that had breached the tall grasses scrambled back onto their mounts.

With a fervent clamor, the horses pawed the dirt, digging their hooves deep, and galloped off. Amidst the sudden flurry of movement, Arvenus took the opportunity to peer through the leaves of the thicket. There, in the distance, was a man no one on this side of the land could mistakenly identify. He was an imposing figure sitting astride a thick stallion, despite the fact that he had only one arm.

Arvenus sat back, nestling his face against Analin’s neck as he waited for a heartbeat, then another, until the sounds of the bandits were all but forgotten in the night. Slowly, he pried himself from her, and peered through the thicket once more.

Empty plains greeted him. Stars shimmered in the black sky, and the wind whistled through the leaves overhead. But the bandits were gone. Not even an echo of their presence remained.

“Who was that?” Analin whispered, her voice trembling.

“Kenderik One-Arm and some of his band of thieves,” Arvenus spat. The tales of their infamy left little doubt in his mind.

“Vreya?” Analin whispered as he pulled her to her feet.

Arvenus shook his head. “Better her than us, love,” he mumbled.

Even at such a late hour, Mano was still a city teeming with activity. Her gates remained open to weary travelers, and Arvenus and Analin found themselves in the company of many others seeking her asylum. Stone streets met them at the entrance of the city, a winding patchwork of gray that fanned out in a grid-like pattern. Great buildings of timber and stone lined the streets, homes and business with gaping windows that framed either side of the door like eyes. Torches glowing orange danced cheerfully in their sconces, a series of beacons to guide them on their journey deeper into the city.

“She isn’t far,” Analin murmured, now staring at a frail scrap of parchment held delicately between her fingers. “Up one more street, and then we turn to the right. Her house is the second on the left.”

Weary with an exhaustion that plumbed the deepest parts of him, Arvenus reached for Analin’s hand. Her skin was soft and warm, and she curled her fingers between his, pulling him close to her.

“It’s all going to be alright,” she murmured against his shoulder. “You’ll see.”

Up one street further they rounded the corner to the right. Though there were fewer sconces to guide them, the milky moonlight filtered down from between the clouds, and for the first time that night, Arvenus felt some semblance of peace. Soon they would be rid of the Ether shards and on their way back home. Soon they could forget about bandits and death and lost mules.

He stopped when Analin pulled on his arm.

“This is it,” she breathed, staring at the house before them. It was a rather unremarkable place, dark inside but for a single candle that glimmered in the rightmost window.

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to hide his skepticism. The expression on her face suggested that he had not been successful.

“I followed every instruction as it was written,” she said, pulling her hand from his. She made her way up the short footpath to the front door, and Arvenus was quick to follow. She rapped on the door, three knocks in quick succession.

There was a moment of rustling behind the door. Then, the dark oak wood opened a smidge.

“Yes?” It was a bodiless voice, one that called to them from the darkness within.

“We’re looking for Salayis...” Analin’s words trailed off into the quietness that hung around them, a pregnant pause in the air.

“Who are you?” the voice asked at last, a hesitance in her voice.

“Analin and Arvenus. A friend said they had arranged this meeting with you–”

Without hesitation the door swung wide. There, on the doorstep, stood a woman of middling years. Her face was smooth, as if made of fine porcelain, with dark sultry eyes and raven black hair that hung down to her waist.

She smiled, berry red lips drawn across pearly teeth. “Welcome. I’ve been awaiting your arrival for some time.”

Salayis opened her arms to them, and Analin stepped inside without pause. Arvenus followed close behind her, eyeing Salayis with a quiet scrutiny. She walked with an assured air, though her demeanor was unassuming. There was a simplicity about her he found oddly alluring. An easy nature that embraced him like a heady brew and wound him up in her.

She led them through the darkened hall and into a wider room at the back of her home. It was a large, empty space - one with an ornate rug adorning the floor and little else. A cheery fire greeted them, hissing and spitting from inside a stone hearth. Around the base of the hearth stood clay jars of every size.

“What are those for?” he asked, nodding toward the fire.

Salayis flashed an errant smile. “You’ll see soon enough.” She opened her arms wide to them, stepping back towards the fire.

“Here is where the ritual will take place,” she said, her husky voice drawing Arvenus in. “Come and sit with one another.”

“We have payment,” Analin said as she dropped to her knees in the center of the room. Arvenus followed suit, folding his legs up beneath him.

As they settled into place, Salayis grabbed up a jar from the hearth and reached her hand inside. Before they could register what it was she had done, she pulled a palm full of powder from the jar and, with a quick breath, cast the dust from her palm toward them.

Salayis smiled at them warmly. “All in good time, dear Analin. We shall discuss payment in the morning.”

“What was that dust?” Arvenus asked. Already he could feel his body warming, his head so light he felt as if it might float free of his shoulders.

“Something to calm you,” Salayis said with a smirk. “Something to clear your mind of inhibitions and bring you to the here and now. It will help you to be more attuned to the process, and to one another. Now,” she commanded them, settling onto her knees nearby. “I want you to embrace each other, skin to skin. You must be comfortable and connected. Hold hands and keep eye contact throughout. This is important. You must remain connected to each other, no matter what I say or do. You must cherish the love you have for one another, and the love you have for the baby that will be in Analin’s womb.”

Arvenus turned his eyes to Analin. Slowly, he reached for the edges of his tunic and with a sharp tug pulled the shirt clean over his head. He watched with hungry eyes as Analin followed suit, carefully unbuttoning the front of her dress. As she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, he felt a surge of desire throbbing within himself. As she slipped free of her dress, he reached forward, gripping her shoulders, and pulled her close against his chest. She stared up at him, and he found himself swimming in the neverending depths of her eyes. She was radiance and light. She was beauty and warmth. She was as clear and blue and vast as the ocean and as dark and wondrous as the night sky. She laced her fingers in his, not once drawing her eyes away from him. Arvenus felt in that moment that his chest might explode with his feelings for her.

They were so consumed in each other that neither noticed as Salayis rose to her feet. She picked up several of the clay jars that lay next to her, and with a deep voice began to recite a prayer to Psikar that neither of the lovers had ever heard before.

“May he that is Psikar, God of the Spirit, grant you joy this night. May Psikar grant your womb a soul, one that may flourish and grow. May Psikar grant you the baby you so eagerly seek.”

Round and round she stalked the room, and as she did, she began to sprinkle liquids from the jars over the couple.

Arvenus felt his desire growing, his body warming at the thought of Analin’s body beneath his. Her fingers gripped his tighter, and he could not mistake the flush that rose in her cheeks as she stared into his eyes. Neither were aware when Salayis slipped silently from the room. Neither noticed the fire dimming or the passing of night into morning. All they knew in that moment was each other; the softness of skin on skin, the heat of their lips colliding, and the pure ecstasy of their bodies writhing in synchrony through the long night.