Merek's Ascendance by Andrew Lashway

tornado either.
    “Run,” he said as he picked up his staff and gestured to the forest. It was maybe a mile away. “Run!”
    Thorald followed his lead, even though running wasn’t exactly possible for either man. They more jogged at a quick pace, hobbling as their legs screamed in protest and their lungs burned with pain. Fear and the need to survive pushed them forward as the storm came ever closer, tearing up everything in its path. Merek couldn’t begin to gauge how wide across the clouds were, but if he had to guess (as if he had time for guessing) it was about three cottages wide.
    As soon as he realized it, he hobbled just a little bit faster.
    They made it to the forest with moments to spare, but the tornado was still chasing them.
    “Now what?” Thorald wheezed, hunched over with his hands on his knees.
    “This way,” Merek replied, heading towards his cave. While he didn’t want anyone to know where it was, he trusted Thorald. The man could have just let him fall down the ravine, but instead he had saved him.
    It was good enough for Merek.
    They ran through the trees even as the rain started falling on them. The liquid energized them as they ran, though it only meant that the storm was closing in on them.
    Then, finally, they were at the base of the cliff.
    “Follow me,” Merek said as he started to climb. This climb was much easier; his hill wasn’t a straight drop.
    The rain fell with determination now, soaking t hem to the bone within seconds. The climb soon became treacherous as the ground became slick. More than once, Merek had to stop to give Thorald a hand up. And more than once, Merek had to be caught by Thorald when his grip slipped.
    Working together, the pair made it to Merek’s cave. Merek waved his companion through, and Thorald headed in without hesitation. Thorald was larger than Merek, but he was still able to fit through the opening. Merek followed him just as a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree.
    Inside the cave, the sound of the storm receded slightly, and it was still as dry as ever.
    “This is a nice little spot. Yours?”
    “I suppose,” Merek replied, flopping down on the floor. He only rested for a moment before getting up and moving to his pile of wood. The sooner he got a fire going, the sooner he would be able to dry off.
    To his surprise and relief, Thorald helped. It turned out the diplomat knew a good deal about making fires, and within a few minutes they got a decent blaze going. Merek gave Thorald his blanket, while he used the sleeping area as one himself.
    “And think, it’s not even noon yet.”
    “Is the weather always like this?” Thorald asked as he shivered.
    “It comes and goes. Some days are perfectly beautiful. Some days… some days are this. It’s all just luck of the draw.”
    “How long have you been out here?”
    “A few months now. It’s been quite the experience.”
    “I’ll bet. I don’t suppose you know where the castle is, do you?”
    “Not from here, sorry. But I do know where Tules and Fodina are. I can take you to one of those when the storm passes.”
    “That’ s very kind of you,” Thorald said, sounding genuinely impressed.
    Merek simply shrugged.
    The two of them sat in silence for a long while, listening to the rampaging storm. It wasn’t until the worst of it was over that Merek spoke again.
    “So what was your assignment in…”
    “ Grevoria. I went to enter peace talks. There have been some hostilities lately, and we wanted to make sure both kingdoms knew where the other stood.”
    “How’d that go?”
    Thorald shrugged, though his brow furrowed.
    “So so?” Merek suggested.
    “I’m not sure they want peace. I fear they see us as weak, and will try to exploit that weakness. Then there will be blood, and… I don’t want to see any more blood spilled.”
    Merek nodded his understanding.
    “So… Merek. That’s a nice name. What’s your surname, if I may ask?”
    Merek pondered it for a moment before