The Master of Names

Chapter 22- A web of Mystery

  "Could there have maybe... been another way?" Keldon thought looking at the corpse of Annos. It made him sick. Every bleeding inch of it. Heroes didn't kill people... or at least they shouldn't.

  Perhaps it was unavoidable. What were they going to do? Let Annos go lick his wounds just to get stabbed in the back later? Both he and Salem had a mission and letting Annos go could cost them the entire world. So, wasn't this the only choice? Letting him go would be naïve. Foolhardy. So incomparably idiotic that he might as well have just stuck his neck out onto the chopping block and saved the crazed man some time.

  But looking into Annos' cold dead eyes made Keldon feel like letting him go should've been the right move. The heroic thing to do. Why did doing good have to feel so evil?

  Keldon pulled his cloak around him tighter, holding close to him any little bit of heat that he'd recovered. After working at the hissings, you learn to clutch to what little bits of comfort you can get.

  But things weren't all bad. Salem was alive, and although the mission hadn't been a total success, they got through in the end. But that didn't mean he couldn't help but wince looking at Salem's wounds.

  Salem was sitting beside Annos' corpse, giving him what Salem had told Keldon was his final rites. As a peacekeeper, they were expected to give final rites whenever possible. Especially when they were the ones who had taken the life. Although Salem wasn't a peacekeeper anymore, it seems he still followed their traditions heavily.

  And with a final clasp of his hands, Salem closed Annos' eyes and laid his hand over his chest.

  "Valhairre Annos. May you find your way home."

  Salem summoned his skill orb and cast a deep orange flame, engulfing Annos' rain-drenched body, and reducing it to ash. He leaned back with a deep sigh, wiping his brow.

  "Was that a passage from the Ulsalla Codex?" asked Keldon.

  Salem gave Keldon a surprised look. "Sort of. It's a modified version for peacekeeper purposes. Reading the actual passages would take us hours, this one only takes a few minutes. Remarkably captures nearly all of the original meaning. How'd you know that though?" asked Salem

  Keldon shrugged his shoulders. "Thought I heard bits of old-graceus in your chants. And since you're a peacekeeper... well, you should figure the rest out by yourself."

  "What?! How did you learn old-graceus?! I barely stumbled through learning it at the peacekeeper institute myself," said Salem.

  "I'm not fluent, but it's passable. I read a lot of random old books that would pass through an old friend of mine's bookshop. One of them was an inquiry into the civilizations and languages predating the continental-reign of Sun-K'aal-Sun. Didn't go into much detail though so I only recognized some familiar syllables in your chant."

  "Well well, aren't we a basket of surprises," said Salem.

  "How's your arm?" asked Keldon.

  "Feeling just fantastic. Couldn't be better."

  "Actually?"

  "Of course not."

  Keldon sheepishly smiled, "Sorry, a force of habit."

  Salem let out a chuckle. "I'm just teasing you pup. Don't be sorry, I know you mean well. Come on, let's get going."

  Keldon trailed behind him, following along as his coat dragged through the mud. But something seemed off. They bantered like usual but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Whenever something bothered Salem, he would usually grumble about it, complain, or brood. However, Salem walked in silence, hobbling over to Mitch who had leaned Ernie up against a tree and was watching them quietly. Odd.