When it was time to descend from the Lady of Redemption, he was not alone. It turned out that he was not the only one who wanted to leave Solum. Most wanted to escape the army, as he did, but others were on board to make a better life for themselves over on the main continent.
Although all the stowaways were kept in extremely close quarters over the 2 days that they were together, there was no shared sense of comradery. There were small rations of food provided in their hideaway - which shared evenly enough- but the glint in some of their eyes convinced Corin that if they saw a clear chance at extra provisions and trinkets, they likely wouldn't turn it down.
Thus he was under no illusions that when the signal to disembark came they would go their separate ways- perhaps not without 'convincing' their fellow stowaways to 'share'.
Clutching his pouch containing the tal, and keeping his spatha in easy reach, Corwin slept lightly.
He had felt more at ease in the forest.
* * *
When the rolling of the ship started to abate, the illegal occupants knew that the ship was close to completing its journey. Pretending to casually stand, all the inhabitants readied themselves for their escape.
It was a few hours after the ship had moored that a sharp series of knocks sounded on the entrance to their inhabitancy. Quickly, the man closest to the door yanked it open and ran out- followed by the rest of the ragtag bunch.
It was dark now- providing the group, theoretically, with ample coverage. Unfortunately, the outcome was entirely different.
The first few escapees had only set foot on their promised land for a few seconds before they were apprehended. The guards that had been lying in wait behind the storage crates on the dock quickly revealed themselves and wasted no time capturing the fleeing men and women.
Seeing this, Corwin quickly darted off along the docks, in what he hoped was the opposite direction to his other escapees- and pursuers.
But his hopes were quickly dashed when he heard the heavy footfalls hot on the trail behind him.
Redoubling his efforts, he quickly threw himself into a doorway that lay open in his path.
The doorway led to a storage area for shipments, mostly kept in crates and wooden storage containers. Although there was no exit in sight, it did provide for ample coverage.
Amongst his father's teachings, his father had emphasised the importance of using the entire environment to his advantage. The forest had its cover in the form of trees- and the ground was littered with items that all could be taken advantage of. Here, storage containers provided cover, and there was sure to be items left around by the dock workers could be useful.
Pausing to catch his breath behind a particularly large container, Corwin considered his action plan. He did have his spatha- but with no formal training or practice, he felt that he would be much more effective with his bare hands. He didn't have any ignition devices with him, and there was no easy access to fire or water nearby- not in the warehouse at least.
He did have his tal- but he was still unsure of its effects. Corwin had been thinking about what his father had said when he had given it to him;
You already know the activation chord from our training.
He at least had an idea about the method to activating it- when they had practised meditation together, his father had made him harmonise specific notes with him, and hold more than one together in his head at once. That had to be the 'activation chord' that he was talking about.
But as to its effects, he hadn't had the time or the energy to have tried it out during his trek through the woods. And, obviously, couldn't have let his fellow stowaways see such a precious item.
It was worth possibly keeping as a last resort- perhaps it created some sort of effect - no, what had his father called it? A 'harmony ability'. Maybe it would give him a boost that would allow him an edge?
The guard, only a few seconds behind Corwin, quickly entered the warehouse. Seeing no visible sign of his target, he slowed down and pulled the sword from his waist.
"Come on kid, we both know how this is going to go,"
The guard's voice echoed around the warehouse. It was met with no response.
"I don't want to have to hurt you- But I will if you don't come quietly."
The guard was nearing Corwin now, only a few aisles away from his location. Tensing up, he readied himself.
The guard tried one last time to reason with his target.
"All we want to do is deport you back- why risk injury when all that faces you is a shipment back to where you came from?"
With that, Corwin struck.
Covering the short distance between them with a leap, he transitioned into a leg sweep- catching the man off-guard and sending him tumbling to the floor.
Quickly, Corwin mounted the man across the waist and started raining down blows on his body. But the man was good- his forearms immediately came up to protect his face.
Sensing the futility of his blows- the only unarmoured places were the man's throat and head, which were completely protected by his arms- he unmounted the guard, grabbing his arm, and transitioned into an arm bar.
His body wrapped around the man's arm, he squeezed his legs and pulled the man's wrist, attempting to dislocate his shoulder. But, immediately, he realised his mistake.
The guard was far and away out of his weight class.
Even straining as Corwin was, the man slowly managed to flex his biceps- partially lifting him into the air- then slammed him back down into the ground, stunning Corwin.
With Corwin's grip now loosened, the guard escaped the arm bar and made it to his feet.
Still a little dazed, Corwin struggled back onto his feet. Instead of taking advantage of his glaring weakness, the guard simply waited for him to get to his feet.
"Where did you learn that, kid?"
The man's question caught Corwin off-guard. Although wary that the guard might have been trying to distract him, he responded.
"My father… Why did you want to know?"
The man seemed surprised.
"So he must've come from-"
Too late, Corwin recognised what the guard was getting at- that his father wasn't of the Republic! There was no way he would only get deported after being on the side of the enemy!
Now sure that he couldn't beat the man with his physical abilities, he reached into his pouch to grab his last resort; his father's tal.
Gripping the talem stone fiercely, he focused on the chord that he had practised with his father in their training session.
Unlike in the ceremony, where he had to learn the activation melody, Ennis had drilled this harmony into him over their 3 years of training. Thus, Corwin felt the connection snap into place instantly.
If the guard was surprised at Corwin's admission before, he was downright spellbound as the child in front of him seemed to split into two mirror-image copies.
Corwin was also shocked at the effect of the tal, as he looked to his right to find his own face staring right back at him. But, he couldn't afford to be distracted- he knew that he had a time limit.
Breaking into a full-on sprint, he ran straight at the guard.
Now faced with two charging opponents, there the guard hesitated.
And that was all that Corwin needed.
Twisting to the left, he dodged around the guard as his copy did the same to the opposite side.
The exit was only a few bodylengths away now- but just as he passed the guide, he felt his connection to the tal snap out of existence, and with it, his double.
But he couldn't slow down now, not now, when the exit was so close. Without turning back, he put his head down and pumped his legs harder.
And that's when he felt the thick ropes wrap around his legs.
The bolas- thrown by the guard behind him- tangled itself around him, his momentum throwing him to the floor.
It was over. And he had been so close, so close to that exit.
Crouching down next to the Corwin the guard roughly grabbed his chin and forced him to look into his eyes.
"Kid, you didn't let me finish. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you're not a thief."
"Wait- what? Why would-"
"Shut up. We have little time, so save it. Oh- And I'm sorry about what's coming. I won't be able to explain your presence otherwise."
Corwin only had a few seconds to wonder what he was talking about, until he felt a sharp pain, and then nothing.
* * *
Triticum, Western Realm, Animar
Temple of Fundur
Though the tears openly flowed down her face, the High Priestess resolutely held the dagger aloft. Many of her followers mirrored her expression.
As the knife pierced her eardrums, she cried out. However, the High Priestess cried not for the pain that she had to endure, but for the pain that was to come.
War.
A Religious war.
Letting the bloodied dagger clatter to the floor, she allowed the senior acolytes to come forward with bandages.
She could no longer hear the sounds of her own weeping.
All she felt was the tears falling down her face, dropping to the floor, snuffed out forever.