Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1) ✔

Chapter 47: Beware of the Pixies

We didn't have enough time to rest through the night. The bird flew straight into Ace's face a couple of hours after the meal. Soterios and the cultists have reached the Orathian shore.

The men sharpened their weapons. Nickeltinker and Ace concocted strange potions. I packed the leftover boar for the road.

Torvald grew even bigger and our unease grew around him. He stood at least four heads taller than me now. His transformation didn't sit well with me; it frightened me to think what he would eventually turn into.

As the dawn broke, colouring the forests and steep cliffs of Orathia a gorgeous shade of dark pink, we climbed up the mountains. The Kingdom of Orathia was still out of sight, but Rixen promised it was closer than it seemed. The Star of Orath still proudly shone in the dawning sky, slowly setting behind the mountains.

The men were upfront, talking about some Bastian sparring match. I lingered back with Torvald and Frank, wanting to talk to the giant in private for a bit.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked, only slightly afraid to be so close to him.

But Torvald's gaze was gentle and kind, "That depends on your definition of alright."

"Feeling physically and emotionally fine?"

Torvald sighed, "In that case, no and no."

"Are you feeling better than before?" In a strange way, I wanted him to be better. There was something so tragic about him that it made me play saviour.

"Slightly." Torvald nodded. "In a way, it feels like someone loosened the restraints around my body. I can move and think freely. But such a feeling always comes with a price."

I tilted my head towards Ace, "He seems desperate to help. It's unexpected, to say the least."

"I've heard stories about him on my journeys." Torvald spoke. "Those that had met many mages claimed Ace did not belong with his kind."

"How come?" I asked, staring at the back of the grey-haired old man collecting plants alongside the road.

"Too human, they said." Torvald murmured. "Too passionate for someone so old."

"Ha, I've always regarded him as somewhat emotionally stunted."

"That's because he's the only mage you've met." Torvald looked ahead. "Once, while I was passing through the woods of southern Bastia, I ran across a group of peasants who've just escaped the Fae lands. They told me the most incredible story about a grey, old mage with a pet warthog."

I stared at Torvald, almost forgetting to walk and stumbling over my feet.

"Fae don't like intruders and the peasants entered their lands by accident. The old mage intervened on their behalf and negotiated with the Fae. He had nothing to gain from the poor peasants, no agenda, no ulterior motive, but he helped them anyway. They never learned his name, he wouldn't tell them." Torvald spoke with a small smile.

"You're trying to tell me he has a heart?" I murmured, not sure whether to believe him.

Torvald grinned, "He has a human heart. That is his biggest flaw."

I chewed on my lower lip, "How do you find good in someone so twisted?"

"Evil is easier to find." Torvald shrugged. "It is the good that stands out, it is the good that is constantly surprising. When you see it, grab it and hold onto it."

"How long is the entire process of locking Ir-kaal going to last?" Rixen's voice caught my attention, interrupting my conversation with Torvald.

He didn't speak to me all night. In some other circumstance, I would be offended, but it seemed as if this entire journey changed me somewhat. I understood him now. I understood all of them, even Ace, with his immeasurable fear of death.