Chapter 23 - On the other side of world's end

There was no real path, just a rough, untrodden route through the wilderness. No one ventured here regularly, only the kidnappers, who came less than once a month. Three women had vanished in the past four months—ten in total over three years. The disappearances had struck fear into the hearts of the villagers, making young, beautiful women wish they were plain and hide themselves away. The last woman taken had even cut her hair short and smeared herself with dirt, hoping to make herself less appealing. But it hadn’t worked. Either, Avia thought, those who took them didn’t care as much about appearances as Mutaram suggested, or someone within Qaryat was aiding the kidnappers. She hoped for the former, but the latter seemed more likely. If someone was stealing young women, their looks were probably part of the attraction. If they were after laborers, there were better choices. And if a woman who made herself look dirty and boyish was still taken, it meant someone knew what lay beneath the surface.
The mountain grew steeper, and the loose stones under her feet threatened to slide, potentially carrying her far and fast downward. There was little vegetation to hold anything in place. Avia paused, scanning the terrain ahead. Path or not, there was only one likely pass to cross to the other side. The valley ended at Qaryat, and according to Mutaram’s story, the monster had come from the world’s end, the other side of the mountains. The hill became too steep to hide or stay on the village’s side. It made sense why they thought of their village as the end of the world. Taking another, safer route with the women would only increase the risk of exposure. No kidnapper with valuable human cargo would take the only proper path leading away from the village, especially not with the possibility of being pursued by an angry mob. She sensed Osapi’s restlessness behind her and moved forward.
They reached the pass and encountered their first snow. Across the white field, a path with fresh footprints indicated they were on the right track. On the other side, they saw a ridge or two of mountains—nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual snow-covered peaks. They searched for any signs or traces to follow. Osapi found a sheltered spot between a boulder and the mountain wall, where they set up camp and made a small fire with the wood they had brought.
As she sat eating, Avia’s thoughts drifted to Putt. She was back in her element, in the environment that had been hers before Putt entered her life. It felt natural. But if Putt had been her apprentice rather than her grandson, she would have handled things differently—better, she guessed. An apprentice made an active choice to follow the path, but Putt had never chosen this life. He hadn’t asked to live the way she did. And with him, her responsibility was far greater than it had ever been with any of her apprentices. A responsibility she had never sought. She hoped Putt and Jadoog would make a functional team, securing the boy’s future, allowing her to return to the life she craved without guilt. She thought of the title ‘Mamasiente,’ given to her not long ago by Viseran, the tribe leader of the mountain men.
“Is it wise not to feel capable of caring for your own grandson?” she asked Osapi suddenly, breaking the silence. It took him a moment to catch up with her thoughts.
“When you know yourself, that’s wisdom, I suppose,” Osapi replied thoughtfully. “It’s not about your ability to care for an orphan, if you ask me.” She nodded, noticing how he used the word ‘orphan,’ subtly pointing out the true nature of her relationship with Putt.
“Besides, it’s not like you didn’t care for him, master,” Osapi continued. “It’s just that your needs are very different from his.” Yes, they were—so true.
“Thank you.” He gave her a nod, and she looked across the fire, wishing she were younger and he just a little bit older.


The descent on the other side offered only one feasible route. The pass led them into a valley that funneled into a single path, hemmed in by steep mountains on either side. There was no other realistic way forward. Avia and Osapi made their way down towards the valley floor, aware that people typically preferred to walk on flat ground, close to water. Once they reached the bottom, they began searching for tracks.
A small, glacial-fed lake lay at the heart of the valley, with streams trickling down from the surrounding snowfields to feed it. The stream running out of the lake was manageable at this point, but Avia knew it would gather strength as it descended. If they chose the wrong side of the stream and needed to cross later, it could cost them valuable time.
Around the water’s edge, patches of vegetation clung to life, and it was there that they found the signs they were hoping for: footprints and the distinct impression of a hoofed animal. Someone had stopped here to replenish their water supplies. And where could they have come from if not Qaryat?
They both searched the area meticulously, looking for tracks leading away from the water. Determining which side of the stream to follow was crucial. The ground was dry, offering them hope that the tracks would still be visible. Avia knelt by a patch of dried mud on a rock, studying what looked like a faint footprint. She followed its direction and found another print, this time clearer, alongside the mark of a hoof. They pressed on, following the signs.
Further down the valley, they stumbled upon an abandoned campsite. The remnants of a fire, a few scattered stones, and trampled grass told the story of a recent stop. They were on the right track.


As shadows lengthened and the sun dipped towards the horizon, Avia and Osapi spotted a solitary stone house nestled against the rugged mountainside. The two-story building, constructed entirely of the abundant stone in the area, stood out starkly against the barren landscape. Light flickered in the windows, signaling that the house was occupied. A narrow road snaked away from it, winding further down the valley, but no other signs of life or civilization were visible.
“Strange place for a brothel,” Osapi muttered, the skepticism evident in his voice. It was indeed an odd location for such an establishment—far from any town, and on a route that hardly seemed frequented by travelers.
“Let’s find out,” Avia replied with a sly grin. Without waiting for Osapi’s objection, she strode directly towards the house. “Keep your eyes open and try to look as harmless as possible.”
Before Osapi could protest, Avia was already at the door, rapping on it firmly. For a moment, nothing happened, so she knocked again, harder this time but still without demanding. The door swung open with a sudden bang, revealing a man who seemed more beast than human. Massive and solid, he loomed in the doorway, his muscles tensed as if to intimidate.
“Yes?” he growled, his voice low and rumbling.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Avia said with a polite smile, doing her best to appear unthreatening and as old as she was. “We’ve traveled far and—”
“This is no inn,” the man interrupted, his tone dismissive.
“I understand that, but—” Avia began again, only to have the door slammed shut in her face. She made a face, amused rather than deterred.
“Interesting,” she mused, turning to Osapi.
“What now? Should we just burst in?” Osapi’s eagerness was unmistakable, his hand already hovering near his weapon.
“We don’t know how many are inside,” Avia cautioned. The idea of a sword fight indoors, in cramped quarters with multiple rooms, was far from appealing. “Smoke them out?” Osapi suggested.
“And risk harming the women if they’re inside? We don’t even know for sure if these are the ones we’re looking for.” Avia’s voice was firm. As a warrior, she bore the responsibility of acting justly, even in a place where no one would hold her accountable. Killing without cause was a line she was unwilling to cross.
Osapi began to move along the wall of the house, drawing his blade. Avia’s heart skipped a beat, worried about what he was planning. She watched as he angled the blade, using it to reflect light into the windows, attempting to catch a glimpse of the interior. After a few minutes, he returned to her side.
“There are three men on the bottom floor,” he reported. “No sign of any women. Nor any weapons.”
“You used the blade as a mirror,” Avia said, a hint of approval in her voice. Osapi nodded, his grin widening at her praise. “Well done.”
“Let’s go in. No killing. We want to know where the women are,” Avia instructed. Osapi nodded in agreement. She drew her swords and kicked the door open, the sudden noise startling the men inside.
Chaos erupted as the three men scrambled to react. One reached for a knife, only to find it knocked from his hand and a sword point pressing against his throat. In moments, Avia and Osapi had the men disarmed and seated against the wall, hands raised in surrender.
“Face the wall and sit down,” Avia ordered, ensuring they were in no position to launch a counterattack. “I’ll check upstairs,” she added, and with a swift leap, she was climbing the narrow staircase. The floorboards creaked under her weight, betraying her presence. She cursed the shoddy construction but reminded herself that any opponent up there would be just as loud.
At the top of the stairs, three closed doors greeted her. She chose the middle one, hoping the unexpected choice might give her an advantage. Inside, she found a woman lying on the floor, bound and gagged, her eyes closed. Was she unconscious or just pretending? Avia checked the room, ensuring there were no hidden threats before approaching the woman.
Satisfied that the room was secure, she untied the gag and cut the ropes binding the woman, but the captive remained unresponsive. Short hair—just like the last woman reported missing from Qaryat. Avia’s heart sank as she realized the others might not be here. She left the room and quickly checked the remaining doors.
In the next room, a man charged at her with a roar, sword raised. Amateur, she thought, sidestepping his attack and tripping him with a swift motion. He crashed to the floor but immediately scrambled to his feet, ignoring the sword pointed at him. He attacked again, but this time Avia ducked and drove her blade into his belly. He stared at her in shock, blood pouring from the wound as he stumbled back, tumbling down the stairs and leaving a trail of red in his wake.
Avia checked the third room for good measure before returning to the woman. With no further threats, she headed downstairs. The man she had wounded lay lifeless at the bottom of the stairs, but Osapi had everything under control with the three captives.
“You’ve taken many women,” Avia thundered at the men. “Where are the others?” Silence. She waited, but neither spoke. Torture was an option, but Avia knew the truth under duress was often unreliable. People would say anything to stop the pain. She needed a different approach.
“You know we’re here to settle this,” she began. “We think you’re guilty of kidnapping these women, and if you don’t prove otherwise, we will kill you. But if you tell us where the other women are, it might save your life.” She waited, watching their faces for any sign of cooperation. When none came, she walked over to the man on the left. He avoided her gaze.
“You. Have you anything to say?” He remained silent.
“Stand up,” she ordered. He complied, and without hesitation, she drove her sword into his abdomen, the blade slicing through vital organs before piercing his heart. Blood gushed as he collapsed, dead before he hit the floor. The remaining two men stared in horror at their comrade’s body, their resolve crumbling.
“Now, you,” Avia pointed her bloodied sword at the second man. “Do you know where the other women are?”
“We sold them,” he stammered, shrinking away from her. “People in Akralaghi pay well for untouched women. They’re hard to come by. But here, they wait until they’re truly adults.” Avia moved closer, pressing her knife under his chin.
“Have you ever thought about how much you’d be worth if your manhood was visible to everyone?” she hissed. The man flushed, clearly uncomfortable. “Who did you sell them to?”
“A-a man,” he stuttered, trembling. Avia’s patience wore thin.
“‘A man’ could describe half the people in the world,” she snapped. “Be more specific.” The other man, desperate, provided more details about a man with a wagon who had taken the women.
Avia considered her options. She could tie them up and drag them back to the village, but the thought of dealing with prisoners, especially with an injured woman to care for, was unappealing.
“Get out of here,” she finally said. The men stared at her, stunned. “I said get out! Leave, and don’t come back. Find something better to do with your lives.” The two kidnappers didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled out of the building and fled down the road.
Avia watched them go, feeling Osapi’s presence beside her. When they were out of sight, she sat down on the doorstep, the weight of her actions settling in. Osapi joined her, and they sat in silence for a moment.
“Do you think it was wrong of me to kill the man?” Avia asked, her voice betraying the uncertainty she rarely showed.
“You’re the master,” Osapi replied, his tone neutral.
“Do you think I should have killed them all?”
“That’s not my decision,” he said diplomatically. Avia studied his face, sensing that he might have preferred a different outcome, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“So, does a group have the right to kill someone for something they see as a serious crime?” she asked, still grappling with her own sense of justice.
“Not always kill, but yes, I think so,” Osapi replied cautiously.
Avia sighed, feeling the weight of her choices. The simple answer didn’t satisfy her. She wished for a higher authority, someone to judge her actions impartially. But in this harsh world, such justice was rare, and she had to be her own judge and jury.
“Could you go inside and take care of the woman?” she asked. She didn’t want to go back inside, not yet. Osapi nodded and rose. “And remove the body from the staircase before you bring her down.”
“Good thinking,” he said, heading back inside.
Avia remained seated, taking a deep breath and letting the cool air calm her. What was done was done.