The Lighthouse
Waves crash violently against the jagged rocks below. The salty spray shoots up in front of Mido’s face as he looks into the distant east. A mist of salty seawater licks his cheek. This was supposed to be an easy journey! A wave of hopelessness crashes over him as thunder growls in the distant clouds, the storm’s shadow creeping ever closer. The small book in his grasp is damp, its cover slick with seawater, yet its enchanted pages remain pristine. Somewhere beneath the churning waves of the Lorian Sea, his shotel lies abandoned among the corals and shifting sands, lost to the abyss.
Some distance to the northwest, a stony lighthouse burns a bright flame across the evening sky. Mido wishes he could reach out to the others, but he has a feeling that the gods would not allow Lumi to perish so easily. Over the rocky cliffs, a body from the wreckage bashes against the rocks with each swell. There is no telling who it is, but he is confident that it is not Augustus or Lumi. Mido slides from the lichen-coated rock, his sarouel covered with grime and sand.
The path down to the edge of the water is merciless, step by step Mido descends across the wet rocks until he finds himself close enough to get a better look at the corpse. It is the captain, Hugo. His body appears bloated and pale. The lightning strike which took the captain’s life runs over in his mind. It had struck with such a ferocity that Mido thought at that moment that his life had ended as well. Mido’s brow pinches as he considers bringing the captain to land to search his body for anything of use. He releases an audible groan as he descends the rocky path and into the small inlet. He places the small book upon a stone and removes his tattered shirt. Already drenched, he doesn’t mind wading through the shallows and swimming to the bloated body. With all of his strength, he pulls the captain back to the sandy shore from the rocks. He pants as he stands above the hefty man. Alright, what’ve you got, Captain?
As Mido stares at the dead man, he feels a sense of guilt for his actions. He drops to his knees and begins to scavenge through the captain’s clothes. Keys, a dagger, and a few silver pieces are all he finds after he scours the captain’s body. With careful consideration, he begins to unlace the captain’s boots and pulls them from his form. A faint clink brings a smile to Mido’s face. Five Lorian gold pieces slide into his palm from the bottom of the boot.
Mido stands, looking down at the captain’s lifeless body, a soft sigh escaping him. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he mutters, his voice low and sincere. “For what it’s worth, I’ll say a prayer for your soul, and offer your body a blessing.”
He gathers his belongings, feeling the weight of the small tome in his hand once more as he steps back toward the beach. The Lorian evergreens that grow along the edge of the shore sway in the heavy winds, their branches bending almost in reverence to the storm that’s quickly gathering strength. Maybe the gods of chaos are opposed to his final rites? He continues anyway, his prayer echoes over the beach as he kneels before the captain, his hand resting atop Hugo’s head.
As he finishes, Mido raises his eyes to the sky, the dark clouds swirling ominously above. The gods are angry, he senses it—fury crackling in the air like static. What did you do to inspire such rage? Before he can finish his thought, lightning blooms through the sky, a stray bolt strikes the conifer behind him, bark and wooden splinters burst across the beach. He yelps as he stands and looks up to the dark skies.
He stumbles away from Hugo in a panic, “Lords of chaos… this man will bother you no more. His soul has passed beyond this realm,” he whispers under his breath.
A thunderous boom splits the sky, and Mido’s vision is swallowed by a blinding flash of white. When the light fades, a woman stands before him. A vivid silk blouse clings to her small frame, its golden hue defiant against the storm-darkened sky. Her boots, laced high to her thighs, are lined with soft white fur, incongruously delicate against the cruel wind. A curved sword rests in her hand, its hilt adorned with a swaying tassel.
Mido looks up and meets her gaze—dark purple, like the heart of a storm, set against soft, girlish features.
“I-I—” he stammers, watching as she steps toward Hugo’s lifeless body. “Wh-who?”
“Ruth,” she mutters, sweeping her dark locks over her shoulder. Her fingertips graze the hilt of her saber as she surveys the corpse.
Mido, suddenly aware of his half-dressed state, tugs his trousers higher. His stubby tail flicks anxiously behind him. “Why’re you here? Who’re you?”
“I’m Ruth,” she repeats, slow and deliberate, her eyes unreadable. The tip of her sword rises, leveling at him. “Don’t get in my way.”
Mido staggers backward. “He’s already dead…”Mido stumbles back, hands raised. “He’s already dead…”
Ruth tilts her head, considering. “So he is,” she sighs, her gaze returning to the captain’s lifeless form. “Well, Zephyr will want proof.” A faint smile curls her lips—then twists into something cruel.
Mido swallows hard as she lifts the saber high. Thunder rumbles, lightning claws across the sky. A scarlet arc splashes against her golden silk. She pulls back, strikes again. The wet squelch of steel through flesh, the crunch of bone—Mido’s stomach churns. Ruth’s expression never wavers. That same dreadful smile lingers, unshaken, with each merciless stroke of her blade. At last, the saber stills. She crouches beside her grisly work, fingers brushing over Hugo’s bald scalp in a grotesque mockery of tenderness. Mido’s sharp ears catch her whisper as she lifts the severed head, cradling it like a prize.
“How’s your hubris serving you now?” Ruth whispers to Hugo’s severed head, her lips curling into a wicked grin. She sheathes her sword and tucks the bloody prize under her arm. “Well then,” she exhales through pursed lips. “Here’s a warning for you… from one follower of the gods to another. Next time you board a ship, make sure the captain isn’t a swine who mocks their might.”
Mido’s mouth hangs ajar, his mind grasping for words that won’t come. “R-right,” he stammers, turning away from the gruesome sight.
Ruth adjusts the head under her arm, the warm blood soaking into her blouse. She barely acknowledges the stain, rolling her eyes as she faces Mido. “You’re only alive because our gods allowed it. Be thankful you still have your life.”
“What of the others?” The words escape before he can stop them. “Did they survive?”
Ruth’s lips twitch. “I don’t know,” she mutters, casting a glance at the darkened skies. “But if the gods wanted you dead, you would be.” She pats Hugo’s head with a sharp slap for emphasis.
“C-can you bring me to the mainland?” Mido pleads, clutching the small tome in his trembling hands.
“No.” Ruth groans, exasperated. “One day you’ll learn to harness the gifts the gods have to offer. Until then, you keep learning.” She turns away, already losing interest. “Anyway—”
“Wa-wait!” Mido calls, but another thunderous boom drowns out his voice. When he blinks, Ruth is gone. “Gods…”
Still shaken, he gathers his belongings and rushes up the lichen-covered stones. The climb is treacherous—his feet slip, grime and moss clinging to his skin as he scrambles forward. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back, only drives himself toward the distant lighthouse. Augustus, you better be okay!
The ground slopes upward, the path barely visible beneath overgrown grass. Jagged stones jut through the earth, and the towering conifers bend and groan under the howling wind. Mido had seen the cruelties of the Desert Cities, had watched Eustes deliver fatal blows without hesitation. But never had he seen a member of the Faith commit such ruthless violence. She said she was an acolyte… but what kind of acolyte does that?
Mido’s ears twitch at the rustling in the nearby brush. He brings the dagger before him, holding it in both hands as if to defend himself. A red fox bursts through the bushes, and Mido grabs his chest in panic while the creature scurries past him. The winds whip over the hill, bending back the conifers in a flurry of sharp winds. Mido shields his eyes from the sand and dust blowing towards him as he continues to the stony lighthouse. The remaining evening light begins to fade, and the darkness from the clouds consumes the skies.
Approaching the lighthouse, dozens of shacks and lean-tos remain empty and derelict. A shiver runs down Mido’s spine as he walks past several collapsed buildings. The area appears to have been a town many years ago. The builds since have been worn and are riddled with rot. The stones around the area are covered with thick lichen, and the grass grows well past his waist on the sides of the path. Who is keeping up with the lighthouse?
At the edge of the town, Mido peers up at the hulking structure. Near the cliffside, the lighthouse rises several stories high, the bright orange glow at the top casts a light across the darkness. Rain begins to patter against the dirt around them and Mido rushes to the wooden entry of the stony lighthouse. He tests the door, tugging and pushing with all of his might. His fists bash against the wood, desperate to flee from the rain and encroaching weather.
He pounds his fists against the wood again. “Please!”
The wind screams behind him, bending the trees like bowstrings. Then a creak. A groan. The door drifts open, revealing a dim yellow light. A figure stands in the threshold, an oil lantern in one hand. His oiled leather cloak gleams under the lantern’s glow, and a small tarred hat perches awkwardly atop his head. Though his features remain hidden in shadow, Mido doesn’t hesitate—he stumbles inside, nearly collapsing past the threshold.
The circular room is smaller than expected. Wooden crates are stacked beneath a winding stairwell, while racks of dried meat and fish hang from the ceiling. A sack of flour sits high on a shelf, leaking small white trails as a draft rolls through the room. Mice skitter across the floor, disturbed by the intrusion. The man turns, his bushy gray beard obscuring much of his face. Shadows from his hat hood his eyes.
“Thank you,” Mido says, his voice barely above a whisper. He stands awkwardly, still shirtless, his ears flattening against his head. “I-I don’t have much to offer, but thank you for letting me in.”
The man grunts, rubbing his face as he limps toward the stairwell. Without a word, he begins his slow ascent. Mido waits before the man reaches the next floor before he follows up the stairs, his stubby tail wags behind him while he follows behind, his eyes peeking around the corner. Mido hesitates, then follows. His stubby tail twitches as he peeks around the corner of the second floor. The space is sparse—only a stone hearth, a worn wooden desk, and another set of stairs leading higher. The fire in the hearth has burned low, its embers glowing softly. Mido rushes to it, pressing himself against the warm stone.
The elderly man flashes a brisk yet unsettling smile and places his hand on the railing leading to the third floor. “Yer of the Faith?” he asks, nodding toward the small tome resting at the foot of the hearth.
Mido presses his cheek against the hearth’s rough stone, eyes fluttering shut. “Y-yeah, from the Temple of Life in Rhaz,” he stammers.
The man clicks his tongue and continues up the stairs. “There’s a ferry that comes to the island once every few weeks… it’ll be a while, but ya may be in luck. Should be comin’ in the next few days with supplies.”
Mido shifts closer to the fire, letting the warmth seep into his bones. He stretches his toes toward the embers, savoring the heat. “Have you seen anyone else?” he asks, his gaze soft but searching.
“This morning… a body washed up on the shore while I was makin’ my rounds. A naked man, dark skin, well-built,” the man says, leaning on the railing and setting his lantern on the stairs.
Mido stiffens. “D-dark skin? Black hair? Scars? Was there anyone else?!” His mouth hangs open as he scrambles to his feet. “Are you certain?”
The man hums thoughtfully, clicking his tongue again. “Didn’t look him over too well. But he was banged up from the storm.”
Mido covers his face with trembling hands. “Is the body still out there? I need to see if it’s someone I know.”
“Dragged him up along the wood line. Crabs and scavengers will be at him by now, but he should still be mostly there by mornin’. How ‘bout I bring ya some beddin’, and I’ll take ya there at first light?”
Mido exhales sharply and nods. “T-thank you for your kindness… might I have your name?”
“Rufus,” the man answers before cocking his head. “And yers, canis?”
Mido quickly gives his name, then glances at his feet. “Are you sure there hasn’t been anyone else?”
Rufus shakes his head, taking up his lantern once more. “No one yet. Yer the first… though if ya were on a passenger vessel, we’ll be expectin’ many bloaters.”
“It wasn’t a large ship,” Mido murmurs, tossing another piece of wood into the fire. Sparks dance up the flue as the flames lick hungrily at the new fuel.
Rufus nods and heads upstairs. “I’ll leave ya to yer thoughts, Mido. I’ll bring down somethin’ for ya to sleep on.”
Mido drapes his soaked shirt above the hearth to dry, the rising heat causing droplets to glisten on the fabric before vanishing into steam. He clasps his hands in prayer, whispering for the safety of his friends and the crew. But doubt festers in the pit of his stomach.
Within moments of hitting the water, the surge had ripped him away from Augustus. He had fought, clawed, and kicked, but the current had won. The last time he had seen Augustus was in the briefest moment when they both surfaced—before another swell dragged them under.
Rufus returns a while later with a bundle of fur-lined blankets, spreading them out over the stony ground in front of the hearth. Rufus leaves in silence as Mido begins to curl up over the blankets, his eyes still trained on the fires in the hearth. Maybe I can try it… maybe I can communicate with them like Lumi. Mido releases an angry snarl and grabs the small tome, laying on his stomach and warming his feet on the hearth as he scours the pages. Despite all the symbols, sigils, and arcane miscellany, he is unable to find anything of use. He slams the book closed with a loud thud, the metallic cover clangs on the ground.
He yanks the blanket over his head, willing himself to sleep. But sleep does not come. He tosses and turns, haunted by Augustus’ absence, his mind drowning in what-ifs. After what feels like hours, he can bear it no longer. Barefoot and shivering, he grabs his damp shirt and descends the stairs. The wooden door groans as he pushes it open, and the storm greets him with frigid rain that lashes against his face. He nearly regrets his decision—until he remembers Augustus’ promise. Augustus promised to protect me… he took an oath.
The rain doesn’t matter anymore. Mido rushes through the dilapidated town, his voice cutting through the night. He calls again and again, his cries swallowed by the howling wind. Behind him, Rufus’ lantern still flickers in the lighthouse window, a lone beacon in the storm.
Lightning blooms across the sky like a divine hand reaching down. Mido presses forward, his feet slamming through puddles and mud. Somewhere, somewhere close, he can feel him. Their bond should be strong enough to guide him. The temple taught that when a guardian bound to a sacred oath dies, their partner will feel it. He clenches at his chest as the rain drenches through his linen. Am I so weak… that I can’t even feel our bond? Augustus can hardly use magick… because of how weak I am
Memories surge like waves. A childhood confession beneath an ancient oak. ‘I love you, Auggie.’ He hadn’t understood the weight of those words then, but he had spent his life knowing Augustus held his heart. Mido’s fingers grasp at his tan flesh, scratching himself as his heart pounds. He hangs his head as tears roll down his cheeks, joining the dripping rain. Ever since that moment, he had sought others—drowning himself in fleeting affections, trying in vain to snuff out the love that refused to die.
Mido rushes for the beach where Hugo had washed up. He slips and stumbles down the wet rocks and manages to fall between them and into the sand. His voice cracks as he screams Augustus’ name across the beach. The waves had thrown Hugo’s body further up the shore, he pauses as he looks at Hugo one last time as anger begins to fill him.
“This is all your fault!” he screams at the lifeless captain. “Why couldn’t you just do your job?!”
The body remains still, crabs scuttle over the corpse, unfazed by his grief as they pick at meaty tendrils hanging from his severed neck.
“You—you aren’t worthy of my prayers!” Mido cries into his palms. “You got everyone killed… you BASTARD!” His voice breaks under the weight of his words. He sucks in a shuddering breath, trying to regain composure, but calm does not come. “W-why couldn’t you just…” His voice falters, trailing off as he turns his back on the headless captain and trudges down the beach.
Mido wonders where along the coast Rufus had left the man’s body. As if summoned by his own thoughts, he stumbles upon it, dragged beneath a conifer at the wood line. Just as Rufus had said, crabs swarm the corpse, their shells clattering as they scuttle over one another. Mido staggers forward, his pulse hammering in his throat, but the moment he sees the man’s face, relief crashes over him—it’s not Khimi. Exhaling sharply, he steps closer, brushing sand from the man’s eyelids and gently shutting them before continuing his search along the shoreline.
The cold air gnaws at his skin, the water pricking his toes as he wades through the surf. He wishes he could wield the magick he’s seen in the hands of more seasoned clerics, the kind that calls down divine light with certainty. But his prayers go unanswered, and doubt curls in his gut. Maybe his faith isn’t strong enough to draw the gods’ attention.
The waves roll in, carrying debris from the shattered ship—splintered planks, shattered cargo, things once whole now scattered like bones along the sand. Judging by the night sky, it must be hours past midnight when, at last, something catches his eye. A break in the muted palette of the coast—a pale shape slumped at the tree line.
Mido runs, sand flying behind him as he skids to his knees beside Augustus. “Augustus,” he breathes, his hands trembling as he turns him over.
Faint, shallow breaths ghost against Mido’s cheek. He brushes his thumb along the freckles dusting Augustus’ nose, fingers pressing against his throat to confirm a pulse. His skin is cold—too cold—but there’s still warmth clinging stubbornly to his chest. He’s freezing to death…
“Gods, help me,” Mido whispers, his breath catching as he pulls Augustus between his knees and curls his body over him. He wishes—desperately—that Lumi or Khimi were here. Either of them could summon fire with a flick of their fingers.
Mido strokes Augustus’ damp ginger hair, pressing his forehead against it. He doesn’t know how to start a fire, doesn’t have the strength to carry him across the island to the lighthouse. Instead, he cradles Augustus closer, sharing what little heat he has. Words tumble from his lips in a frantic prayer, a plea for warmth, for mercy. His hands move instinctively, rubbing along Augustus’ arms, willing blood back into his limbs. Then—his thumb catches on something jagged. A broken shard of coral juts from Augustus’ thigh. Mido swallows hard. I… can heal that at least.
He rubs Augustus’ fingers between his own, trying to coax warmth back into them, eyes darting desperately over the beach for anything that might help—a scrap of dry wood, a sign of Rufus, anything. The night stretches long, and when the first rays of dawn pierce the gray horizon, Mido prays he can hold on until help arrives. If help arrives. If Rufus shows. Then—Augustus’ breathing shifts. It hitches. A wet, rasping sound rattles from his throat. Realization strikes Mido like a bolt of lightning—he’s drowning.
“Shit—” Mido turns him onto his side, panic sharpening his movements. He slaps his back, desperate to force the water out. “Come on, Augustus—breathe!”
Augustus convulses, choking as frothy, pink-tinged seawater spills from his lips. Mido grips his shoulders, voice breaking with relief as color creeps back into his face.
“Augustus,” Mido sobs, clutching him close.
A violent shudder runs through Augustus before his lashes flutter open, dazed green eyes finding Mido’s. A weak smile tugs at his lips. “Y-you’re a-alive,” he stammers between chattering teeth.
Mido lets out something between a laugh and a sob, burying his face in Augustus’ hair. “I’m supposed to say that.”
***
Rufus sits near the hearth, the wooden stool beneath him creaking as he leans forward, balancing two wooden bowls in his calloused hands. Augustus and Mido accept them gratefully, their fingers aching from the lingering chill. Rufus ladles thick porridge into their bowls, the steam curling into the dim firelight.
Augustus’ complexion remains pale, the usual pink of his cheeks replaced by a sickly pallor. He wipes the snot from his nose with the back of his hand and murmurs a nasally thanks before blowing over the hot meal. Mido can’t help but smile as warmth seeps into his bones, the fire flickering at his side—and Augustus beside him, alive.
Augustus stretches out his stiff toes, curling them with a groan before muttering a curse. “I wonder if anyone else made it…”
“Ya both managed to make it through,” Rufus says, scooping himself a generous portion of the sloppy gruel. “That’s an achievement in itself. Maybe yer friends had a bit of luck, too.”
Mido places a hand on Augustus’ shoulder, squeezing gently. “Let’s just be thankful… thankful we survived.”
“Yer friend’s right. Anything else is a blessin’,” Rufus mutters before stuffing a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. He chews for a moment, then gestures vaguely. “If ya make it to Hermon’s Well, ya might find ‘em. The ferry’ll take ya to a crossroads town, then across the inlet. If yer friends are headin’ north, that’s where they’d be.”
“Why not Cochon?” Mido asks, his voice quiet as Augustus sips at his meal.
Rufus shakes his head, a knowing glint in his eye. “From what I’ve heard? Ya don’t wanna be in Cochon right now. Somethin’s off. The Lorian consul stationed there up and vanished, and folks have been disappearin’ left and right.”
Augustus chokes on his porridge before forcing a grin. “Well, Cochon was where we were headed, so I guess we’re going anyway,” he says, throwing Mido a wink. “We’ll be alright—we always manage, don’t we?”
“Barely,” Mido mutters, staring into his bowl. “Before this, it was just a goblin and a few bandits.”
Rufus hangs his head and chokes back a laugh, “When I served on the Lorian vessel, Alexandria, I didn’t see a single day of combat… then I was asked to protect a wagon to the capital from one of the ports. Goblins, bandits, wolves, witches. All manner of monsters comin’ out the woodwork. My point is, no matter what yer preparin’ fer, ya never know what is gonna be next.”
Augustus exhales over his steaming spoonful, blowing away the heat. “Hopefully, after this, things won’t be so bad. We’ll get to Hermon’s Well, find our friends, and set ourselves straight from there.”
Mido looks up with a faint smirk. “Is there… anything we can do to repay you, Rufus?”
Rufus waves a hand dismissively. “I don’t need nothin’ from ya. Maybe run a few errands. Fetch some water from the well, keep the beacon lit while I catch a bit of shut-eye. Ain’t had any sleep since ya bolted into the night like a hound outta the hells.” He smirks, eyes glinting with mischief. “So… are ya together?”
Mido chokes, nearly inhaling his scalding porridge. “N-no,” he sputters. They’d been asked this question a hundred times since their teenage years, but Mido still worried it might bother Augustus. “We’re like brothers,” he adds quickly.
Augustus arches a brow, smirking. “I guess he’s like my brother. We’ve been close since we were kids.”
“Anyway!” Mido announces hastily. “You really saved our lives here, Rufus… without you, I don’t think either of us would have made it.”
“Certainly nursed me back to health,” Augustus says, giving a comforting smile.
Rufus finishes his porridge and fills another bowl, offering a small smile. “It’s nice to have company… and I’m glad to lend a hand to those in need. As a follower of the Faith, it’d be hard to turn away one of their own,” he says, pulling out a circular talisman from beneath his shirt with a casual motion.
Augustus chuckles as he reaches for his own necklace. Realization crosses his face as his fingers run over his chest. “I guess I’ll have to get a new one.”
Mido hides a bashful smile, his eyes meeting Augustus’s. “It’s something to look for when we reach Hermon’s Well.”
Augustus hangs his head, strawberry locks falling to obscure his eyes. “Dad is going to kill me… that was blessed by the last Saint of Flames.”
Rufus pauses, his expression turning serious as he stands with his bowl of porridge. “Oh, you won’t replace that in this lifetime,” he whistles, then gives a knowing nod before turning toward the stairs.
Augustus raises his bowl to Rufus in silent gratitude. “Thanks again, Rufus.”
Rufus acknowledges the thanks with a quick nod before leaving the room, the door shutting softly behind him. In the quiet that follows, Mido stands before the hearth, a blanket draped over his shoulders. Augustus continues to absently twirl his fingers around the spot where his necklace once rested.
“Sorry,” Mido murmurs, turning away from the warmth of the fire. “I’m sorry—”
“What?” Augustus chuckles softly, setting his bowl down between his legs. “You’re joking, right? Mido… you saved my life.”
Mido’s tail twitches with nervous energy. “I wish I could’ve saved your necklace… or something,” he whispers, wringing his fingers. “All I could do was heal the wound on your leg… you did the rest.”
“Shut up,” Augustus snorts, his tone light, yet firm. With surprising ease, he forces himself to stand and opens his arms. In nothing but a wrapped loincloth, he pulls Mido into a tight embrace, engulfing him in the warmth of reassurance. “You did everything you could… like always.”
“I’ll become stronger,” Mido whispers against Augustus’ shoulder as they embrace. “I promise.”
Augustus pushes him back and claps his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you know… but now we need to focus on what’s next.”